tihvavy  of  ^he  theological  ^tmimry 

PRINCETON  •  NEW  JERSEY 

Prom  the  library  of 
Prof.  William  Killer  Paxton 

Presented  by  Krs.   Paxton 


BV  4526  .S76  1859 
Stork,  Theophilus,  1814- 

1874. 
The  home-scenes  of  the  New 


^ 


\N 


■^ 


'^ 


THE 


HOME-SCENES 


OF    THK 


NEW    TESTAMENT; 


OB, 


CHRIST  IN  THE  FAMILY 


Let  them  first  learn  to  show  piety  at  home. "  Paul. 

And  truly  bless'd  are  they 
Who  hear  his  word  and  keep  it  well; 
The  living  homes  where  Christ  shall  dweU* 

And  never  pass  away.  —  Keble. 


BY 

BEV.  THEOPHILUS  STORK,  D.D., 

AUTHOK    or    "THE    CHILDREN    OF    THE    VEW    TESTAMENT,"   SIO.BIO. 

PHILADELPHIA : 

LIKDSAY  &  BLAKISTOK 

1859. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1856,  by 

LINDSAY    &    BLAKISTON, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Eastern 

District  of  Pennsylvania. 


8T£BE0TVPED  BY  J.  FAQAN.  PRINTED  BT  C.  SHERMAN  *  SON. 


TO  ALL 

WHO   HAVE   A    HOME    ON   EARTH    TO    LOVE, 

OB 

HOPE  FOR  ONE  IN  HEAVEN, 

tBXSK 

HOME-SCENES 

^ffectfonatels  £nactn)eli  anTi  Bet)fcateti 

8T   THl 

AUTHOR. 


(Hi) 


PREFACE 


In  presenting  this  volume  to  the  public,  we  have  no  apology 
to  offer,  unless  it  be  for  the  imperfect  manner  in  which  we 
have  actualized  the  true  ideal  of  the  Christian  Home.  The 
idea  of  the  Family  which  we  have  endeavored  to  develop  and 
illustrate  in  these  consecutive  Home-scenes  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, we  regard  as  essentially  connected  with  all  social 
progress  and  Christian  civilization. 

The  Family  as  a  Divine  Ordinance,  is  the  first  and  most 
influential  school  of  man.  Here  must  ever  abide  the  deepest 
springs  of  Social  Life.  No  extraneous  education,  whether  in 
the  week-day  or  Sabbath  school,  can  be  substituted  for  Home 
culture  and  training.  The  greatest  privileges  and  most  sacred 
responsibilities  find  their  basis  here  ;  and  we  are  taught  first, 
"to  show  piety  at  Home." 

The  Family,  it  is  said,  is  the  first  element  of  society.  Tho 
Home  is  an  institution,  "forecast  in  the  very  peculiarities  of 
our  nature."  It  is  the  foundation  of  all  society.  It  em- 
bosoms the  germ  and  ideal  of  the  state.  It  is  the  nursery  of 
the  Church. 

In   our   age   of  manifold  voluntary  associations,   and   the 
multiplied  agencies  for  reform  and  social  progress,  there  is,  we 
think,  an  obvious  tendency  to  neglect  this  radical  school  of 
1*  (v) 


▼1  PREFACE. 

childhood,  this  primordial  institution  for  the  advancement  of 
our  race  in  all  social  virtues  and  Christian  perfection. 

What  we  need  more  than  any  thing  else,  is  home-religion  — 
parental  authority  religiously  directed  —  home -training  and 
discipline — home-happiness  and  purity.  Upon  the  sanctity  of 
the  domestic  relations,  the  intensity  of  its  sympathies,  the 
inviolability  of  its  rights,  the  sacredness  of  its  responsibilities — 
upon  these,  more  than  upon  any  other  instrumental  agencies, 
must  depend  the  moral  purity  and  elevation  of  society,  the 
enlargement  of  the  Christian  Church,  and  the  consequent 
education  of  our  race  for  glory  and  immortality.  Truly  and 
beautifully  has  the  Christian  poet  sung  :  — 

"Domestic  Happiness,  thou  only  bliss 
Of  Paradise  that  hast  survived  the  falll 
****** 
Thou  art  the  nurse  of  virtue  —  in  thine  arms 
She  dwells,  appearing,  as  in  truth  she  is, 
Heaven-born,  and  destined  to  the  skies  again."— Cowper. 

We  are  conscious,  deeply  conscious  of  the  inadequacy  of 
these  discussions  to  the  importance  of  the  subject.  But  we 
fondly  hope  that  this  earnest  plea  for  home-aflfections  and 
piety  —  these  suggestions  upon  topics  of  such  intense  personal 
and  general  interest  —  these  ^' Home-scenes^^  —  may  with  the 
Divine  blessing  be  conducive  to  the  great  end  of  the  Gospel, 
the  renewal  of  the  soul  and  the  redemption  of  the  home. 

Philadelphia,  December,  1856. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAQK 

MEMORY  OP  OUR  CHILDHOOD 14 

THE  TRUE  IDEAL  OF  HOME 15 

THE  CHRISTIAN  FAMILY It 

THE  LAW  OF  THE  HOUSE 19 

ORGANIC  UNITY  OF  THE  FAMILY 22 

HOME,  THE  NORMAL  SCHOOL  OF  CHILDHOOD 2t 

CHURCH  OF  CHILDHOOD , 36 

CHRISTIAN  HOMES 43 

FACTS 44 

THE  CHURCH  IN  THE  HOUSE 4t 

(vii) 


▼m  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   II. 


PAQI 


SOMETHINa     PECULIAK    AND    DISTINCTIVE    IN    THIS     HOME- 
SCENE 56 

TWO   PICTURES 5T 

BETHLEHEM  AND  THE  FLIGHT  INTO  EGYPT 57 

CHRISTIANITY  THE  GUARDIAN  OP  CHILDHOOD 58 

FRIENDLESS  AND  HOMELESS  CHILDREN 61 

MARY;    OR,  THE  TRUE  IDEAL  OF  A  CHRISTIAN  MOTHER Tl 

THE  MOTHER  AND  THE  CHILD 80 

THE  MATERNAL  RELATION 81 

THE  CHILD 86 

HOME-SCENE 88 

APPEAL  TO  MOTHERS 91 

OUR  COUNTRY 91 

THE  mother's  reward 93 

CHATEAUBRIAND  AND  HIS  MOTHER 93 

DEATH-SCENE 97 


CONTENTS.  ix 


♦  CHAPTER  III. 

Cnna ;  nr,  tjiB  %xM  km. 

PASS 

earth's  first  bridal 100 

marriage  in  cana 110 

steps  to  the  marriage -altar 113 

youthful  love  and  courtship 116 

suggestions 119 

the  bridal  ceremonial ; 12t 

the  new  home 129 

wedded  love 132 

last  glance  at  the  cana  festival 139 

the  moral  end  of  marriage 140 


CHAPTER   IV. 

RELIGIOUS  CHARACTER  OF  CORNELIUS 144 

UNION  OF  DEVOTION  AND  MORALITY 146 


X  CONTENTS. 

PAQI 

THE  DUTY  OP  FAMILY  WORSHIP 148 

SEASONS  AND  CONSTITUENT  PARTS  OF  FAMILY  WORSHIP 156 

THE  SEASONS  OF  DOMESTIC  WORSHIP 159 

MORNING  WORSHIP 160 

EVENING  WORSHIP 162 

THE  BLESSINGS  OF  FAMILY  WORSHIP 164 

THE  INFIDEL  CONVERTED 169 

A  FAMILY  CONVERTED ItO 

FAMILY  PRAYER  ESTABLISHED  BY  A  CHILD lU 

THE  DISCOURAGED  FATHER 112 


CHAPTER  V. 

A  RURAL  HOME-SCENE 181 

JESUS  IN  THE  FAMILY 184 

L 

UNITY   AND    LOVE. 

THE  FRATERNAL  RELATION 185 

BEAUTIFUL  ADAPTATIONS 18t 


CONTENTS.  XI 

PAOB 

BROTHERS  AND  SISTERS 189 

MUTUAL  DEVELOPMENT 194 

HISTORICAL  ILLUSTRATIONS 196 

PRACTICAL  THOUGHTS.. 198 

II. 

THE    SPHERE    OF   WOMAN. 

MODERN  IDEAS  OP  WOMAN^S  POSITION 199 

woman's   RIGHTS 202 

THE  CHRISTIAN  ASPECT  OF  WOMAN'S  SPHERE 206 

HOME 209 

THE  EDUCATION  OP  DAUGHTERS 216 

THE  MARYS  ROUND  THE  CROSS 222 

III. 
FAMILY    CARES. 

DOMESTIC  TRIALS 224 

HEAVENLY  PEACE 225 

MARTHA,  OR  HOME  CARES 229 

MARY,  OR  SPIRITUAL  REPOSE 236 

BEAUTIFUL  ATTITUDE  OF  MARY 239 

THE  ONE  THING  NEEDFUL ' 243 


XU  CONTENTS. 

IV. 

DOMESTIC    AFFLICTIONS. 

PAoa 

THE  SHADED  HOME 244 

SICKNESS 245 

THE  VIGILS  OF  LOVE 248 

THE  MESSAGE  TO  JESUS 249 

THE  DEATH  OF  LAZARUS 250 

BENEFITS  OF  AFFLICTION 252 

DEATH  IN  THE  FAMILY * 25t 

LIGHT  IN  THE  HOME  OF  BETHANY 260 

INTERVIEW  BETWEEN  JESUS  AND  THE  SISTERS 262 

THE  RESURRECTION  SCENE 211 

CHAPTER   VI. 

(gimnaus ;  nr,  ttje  ISimt  nf  (Dli  5lgf. 

THE  SABBATH  AFTERNOON  WALK 282 

NATURAL  EVENING  284 

THE  EVENING  OF  LIFE 286 

IRRELIGIOUS  OLD  AGE 288 

THE  AGED  CHRISTIAN'S  VESPER  HYMN » 294 

THE  HEAVENLY  HOME 295 


HOME-SCENES 


NEW   TESTAMENT. 


C[raptn  /irst. 

HOME. 

"  Home ! 
There 's  magic  in  that  little  word ; 
It  is  a  mystic  circle  which  surrounds 
Comforts  and  virtues,  never  known 
Beyond  the  hallowed  limit." 

Theke  is  no  word  in  our  language  so  musical  to  the 
ear,  so  redolent  of  sweet  memories  to  the  heart,  as  the 
word  Home.  It  lingers  in  the  soul  like  some  sweet  song 
of  our  childhood,  and  its  pictured  scenes  and  mother 
memories,  soft  and  dim  with  years,  mellowed  and  graced, 
like  other  pictures,  by  the  slow  and  tasteful  hand  of  time, 
ever  rise  to  the  heart  — 

**  Apparelled  in  celestial  light, 
The  glory  and  the  freshness  of  a  dream." 

It  is  the  morning  star  of  life's  early  dawn,  and  the 
evening  star  of  life's  setting  sun.     Whatever  may  be  the 
2  (13) 


14  H  0  M  E  . 

psychological  explanation,  it  is  a  fact,  that  our  early  home 
never  seems  so  fresh  and  beautiful  as  in  old  age  —  and 
every  true  life  repeats  in  some  way  the  prophet's  words — 
"He  shall  return  to  the  days  of  his  youth."  Some  one 
in  adverting  to  this  peculiarity  in  our  earliest  impressions 
of  home,  attributes  it  not  merely  to  the  susceptibility  of 
childhood,  but  to  constant  retrospection,  which  is  per- 
petually deepening  the  image  and  transcript  of  those  early 
years.  Whatever  may  be  the  explanation,  the  fact  is  un- 
questionable that  if  blessed  with  a  genial  and  happy 
home  in  childhood,  it  becomes  a  living^  memory,  influential 
upon  all  our  after  years.  Even  Goethe,  with  all  his 
artistic  coolness,  in  the  inscription  to  Faust,  reverts  to  his 
early  days  in  sentiments  the  most  beautiful  and  touching : 

"Once  more,  sweet  visions,  are  ye  floating  hither  — 
Forms,  who  of  old  oft  ghiddened  my  dim  sight? 

*  *  *  *  -x-  -x- 
How  with  the  joy  of  youth  my  bosom  springs, 
Breathing  the  magic  air  shook  from  your  dewy  wings  ! 

*  *  -Jt  X-  )f  * 

"What  I  possess  now  seems  no  longer  real. 
But  in  the  past  I  live,  in  my  soul's  first  ideal." 

It  is  as  true  of  the  humblest  peasant,  as  of  this 
"  majestic  demigod"  of  the  German  Parnassus.  With  us 
all,  life  as  it  travels  on,  recurs  ever  to  its  beginning,  for 
it  has  received  its  appointed  orbit  from  the  same  hand 
that  formed  and  guides  the  spheres. 

If  we  carry  with  us  through  life  the  memory  and  in- 
fluence of  our  first  home  —  how  important  the  moral  tone 


HOME.  15 

and  character  of  this  ever-living  memory.  How  important 
that  the  home  of  childhood  should  be  one  of  moral 
beauty  and  gentle  affections — that  it  may  be  the  fountain 
light  of  all  succeeding  days  —  and  in  the  hallowed  retro- 
spection breathe  a  perpetual  benediction ! 

We  are  conscious  that  much  that  is  written  so  rhapsodi- 
cally  about  home  and  the  love  of  home,  is  mere  cant,  and 
a  commonplace  flourish  of  words,  or  mere  poetical  pic- 
tures of  sentiment  and  fancy.  Such  representations  are 
often  as  false  to  the  true  ideal  of  a  Christian  home  as  a 
cottage  seen  in  the  distance  through  green  foliage  and 
flowers,  may  be  deceptive  to  the  eye,  revealing  an  exterior 
beautiful  and  attractive,  whilst  all  within  is  discord  and 
selfishness,  as  infelicitous  as  it  is  repulsive. 

That  there  exists  a  great  disparity  between  the  ideal 
and  the  real  home,  no  one  can  question,  and  it  is  a  con- 
sciousness of  this  fact  that  prompts  the  present  effort  to 
assist  in  actualizing  to  a  greater  extent  the  true  ideal  of 
the  Christian  home. 

In  presenting  what  we  conceive  to  be  the  true  ideal  of 
Home,  we  shall  not  dwell  upon  what  may  be  regarded  as 
mere  external  adornments  and  incidental  associations. 
These  are  not  to  be  overlooked,  as  they  impart  a  certain 
grace  and  beauty  to  the  home-life,  and  contribute  to  the 
general  refinement  of  sentiment  and  manners  in  the  social 
relations,  but  they  do  not  belong  essentially  to  the  nornul 
idea  of  home  which  it  is  our  purpose  to  develope  and 
illustrate.     Whatever  allusions,  therefore,  may  be  made 


16  HOME. 

to  these  external  graces  and  poetical  aspects   of  home, 
•will  be  merely  incidental  to  the  main  discussion. 

In  this  age  of  multiform  institutions  for  the  education 
of  the  young  and  the  moral  improvement  of  society,  there 
is  peculiar  danger  of  neglecting  the  domestic  instru- 
mentality for  the  religious  development  of  our  race. 
There  is  a  growing  tendency  to  depreciate  the  home- 
institution  as  a  divine  ordinance  and  economy  for  the  cul- 
ture of  youth  and  the  spiritual  elevation  of  society.  But 
whatever  facilities  in  the  age  may  tempt  parents  to  throw 
oflf  their  responsibility,  and  practically  to  ignore  or  dis- 
parage the  Home-institution  as  the  true  normal  school  of 
the  race,  must  eventually  be  productive  of  evil.  Home- 
education  is  a  law  of  nature  —  a  duty  devolved  on  the 
parents  by  God,  and  is  not  transferable  by  man.  What- 
ever tends  to  invade  this  divine  constitution,  must,  sooner 
or  later,  bring  the  retributive  reaction. 

Conscious  of  such  a  tendency  in  our  day,  we  make  this 
special  effort,  feeble  as  it  is,  to  direct  anew  the  attention 
of  Christians  to  the  Home-institution,  as  a  selected  in- 
strumentality for  the  upbuilding  of  that  spiritual  temple 
of  the  Lord,  from  which  the  symbol  of  his  presence  and 
glory  is  never  more  to  depart. 

Upon  a  subject  of  such  magnitude,  and  of  such  vast 
relations,  we  can  do  but  little  more  than  offer  suggestions 

su ingestions  meant  to  turn  your  serious  thoughts  to  this 

subject  of 


HOME.  17 

THE    CHRISTIAN   FAMILY. 

1.  The  family  is  an  ordinance  of  God.  It  existed  as  a 
conception,  or  an  ideal,  in  the  Divine  Mind,  prior  to  the 
existence  of  man.  "  The  State  existed  before  the  indivi- 
dual, says  Aristotle.  "And,  in  the  same  sense,  the  family 
may  be  said  to  have  existed  before  the  individual.  That 
is  to  say,  the  family  is  not  a  constitution  set  up  by  man, 
as  the  result  of  mature  reflection.  The  perception  of  its 
advantages  did  not  lead  to  its  existence  ;  its  existence  was 
at  first  necessary,  in  order  to  exhibit  its  advantages."  It 
is  an  institution  preconceived  by  the  Divine  Mind,  and  for 
which  preparation  was  made  in  the  creation  of  man,  in 
the  natural  and  moral  instincts  and  social  affinities,  which 
would  prompt  and  adapt  him  to  the  domestic  economy. 

This  divine  ideal  was  realized  in  Eden.  Eve,  the  first 
woman,  was  the  first  wife.  The  first  human  pair  were 
united  in  marriage  bonds.  Earth's  first  bridal  was  cele- 
brated in  the  primeval  Paradise  by  God  himself.  As 
marriage  is  the  basis  of  the  family  life,  we  have  in  this 
ordination  the  divine  appointment  of  the  domestic  institu- 
tion. No  other  institution  can  show  such  an  antiquity. 
"  The  records  of  it  are  the  first  syllables  of  written 
history,  and  the  faintest  stammerings  of  tradition."  The 
family  is  a  divine  ordinance.  And  how  mnnifestly 
appears  the  divine  hand  in  the  preservation  of  the  Home- 
institution  !  How  it  outlives  all  the  convulsions  of  king- 
doms, and  the  destruction  of  empire  !  "  How  tenaciously 
2* 


18  HOME. 

every  where  it  clings  in  the  web  of  human  events ;  and 
under  all  conditions  justifies  its  right  to  be  !  You  might 
as  soon  find  by  chemical  analysis,  and  pluck  out  with 
your  finger  the  living  principle  of  a  growing  cedar,  as 
eradicate  from  society  the  indestructible  tendency  it  has 
to  throw  itself  out  into  families." 

The  grand  moral  end  of  the  family,  according  to  the  in- 
spired prophet,  is,  that  "  He  might  seek  a  godly  seed." 
How  does  this  beneficent  and  world-wide  intention,  en- 
stamped  upon  this  primeval  institution,  demonstrate  the 
home  to  be  God's  appointment !  Forecast  in  the  peculi- 
arities of  our  very  nature,  Christianity  '^  recognizes  the 
family,  that  seminary  of  the  state  and  church,  as  a  divine 
institution,  but  raises  it  to  a  higher  level  than  it  ever 
occupied  before."* 

2.  The  next  fact  worthy  of  notice  is,  that  the  family 
constitution  is  an  organic  whole ;  having,  like  the  indivi- 
dual, ends  of  its  own  to  answer,  and  a  similar  ultimate  re- 
lation to  the  great  end  —  the  former  harmonizing  with  the 
latter.  And  as,  in  the  Divine  government,  of  which  the 
family  constitution  is  a  part,  "  the  glory  of  God  is  coin- 
cident with  the  well-being  of  the  creature,  so  in  the 
family,  the  honor  of  the  parent  and  the  welfare  of  the 
child  are  coincident,  so  that  the  highest  interest  of  the 
^child,  the  highest  honor  of  the  parent,  and  the  highest 
glory  of  God,  are  coincident,  "f 

*  Dr.  Schaff's  History  of  the  Apostolic  Church, 
t  Patriarchy,  by  Dr.  Harris. 


HOME.  19 

It  obviously  follows  that  the  family  is  not  a  system  of 
vague  and  undefined  relations — and  the  home  is  something 
more  than  the  shelter  of  gregarious  instincts ;  it  is  a  con- 
stitution pervaded  by  definite  laws.  Christianity  has  re- 
cognized these  laws  of  the  household,  and  filled  the  home 
with  sacred  duties  and  immortal  affections,  and  given  to 
its  relationship  an  eternal  sanction.  It  has  placed  first, 
as  the  school  and  the  life  of  all  other  piety,  the  piety  of 
Home. 

That  one  word  Economy ,  not  in  its  secondary  and  popu- 
lar sense,  but  in  its  original  import  from  its  Greek  deriva- 
tion, condenses  the  whole  religious  obligation  and  respon- 
sibility of  the  home-life.  "We  may  preach  the  whole 
Gospel  of  Christ  to  the  household,  through  the  sugges- 
tions of  that  simple  word  Economy,  For  it  signifies, 
literally,  the  Law  of  the  House;  the  ordering  of  man's 
whole  domestic  existence ;  the  inauguration  of  the  Divine 
Will  over  his  dwelling.  To  the  soul  surrounded  by  its 
natural  human  relationships,  the  command  out  of  the 
mouth  of  God  is,  ^Set  thy  house  in  order:'  obey  this 
spiritual  economy."* 

THE    LAW    OF   THE   HOUSE. 

Every  family  has  its  law  of  domestic  life  —  its  ruling 
principle  or  passion. 

Such  is  the  organic  relation  of  the  members  of  the 
household,  that  there  is  unity  of  life  and  spirit,  inducing 
*  Huntington's  Sermons. 


20  HOME. 

by  vital  contact  and  reaction  oneness  of  feeling  and 
character,  involving  the  entire  home-circle  in  a  common 
life  and  practical  working.  Dr.  Bushnell  illustrates  this 
"**  organic  unity  of  the  family,"  by  that  vivid  picture  of 
an  idolatrous  household,  in  Jeremiah  vii.  18 — "The 
children  gather  wood,  the  fathers  kindle  the  fire,  the 
women  knead  dough,  to  make  cakes  to  the  queen  of 
heaven,  and  to  pour  out  drink-offerings  unto  other  gods, 
that  they  may  provoke  me  to  anger." 

This  is  a  pagan  home-scene,  and  the  idol- worship  is  the 
common  act  of  the  house.  The  parents  and  children  per- 
form different  parts  in  the  sacred  offering,  and  the  queen 
of  heaven  receives  it  as  one  that  is  the  joint  product  of 
the  whole  family.  The  worship  is  family  worship;  the 
God  of  one  is  the  God  of  all ;  the  spirit  of  one  is  the 
spirit  of  all. 

"  And  so  it  is  with  all  family  transactions  and  feelings. 
They  implicate  ordinarily  the  whole  circle  of  the  house, 
young  and  old,  fathers  and  mothers,  sons  and  daughters. 
They  act  together,  take  a  common  character,  accept  the 
same  delusions,  practise  the  same  sins,  and  ought  I  believe 
to  be  sanctified  by  a  common  grace."  * 

Now  in  this  age,  when  the  bias  of  thought  is  towards 
individualism,  **the  idea  of  organic  powers  and  relations" 
is  well-nigh  lost.  There  is  scarcely  a  recognition  of  the 
idea  of  a  church  life  or  family  life,  or  if  the  conception 
Is  retained,  it  is  merely  as  a  speculative  abstraction  of  no 

*  Views  of  Christian  Culture,  by  Horace  Bushnell,  p.  183. 


HOME.  21 

practical  use  or  importance.  And  yet  this  organic  unity 
is  predicated  of  the  church,  and  by  analogous  reasoning 
authorized  by  inspired  teaching,  may  be  affirmed  of  the 
family  organization  (Ephes.  v.) 

Paul  in  speaking  of  the  church  says,  Ephes.  ii.  19-21., 
"  Now  therefore  ye  are  no  more  strangers  and  foreigners, 
but  fellow-citizens  with  the  saints,  and  of  the  household 
of  God;  And  are  built  upon  the  foundation  of  the 
apostles  and  prophets,  Jesus  Christ  himself  being  the 
chief  corner-stone :  In  whom  all  the  building  fitly  framed 
together,  groweth  unto  a  holy  temple  in  the  Lord."  The 
idea  here  of  the  church,  is  that  of  local  proximity,  and 
vital  union  and  development.  It  is  a  house,  but  unlike  the 
literal  house,  which  rises  by  manual  additions  and  super- 
positions—  it  grows.  The  same  idea  of  organic  unity  is 
presented  by  St.  Paul,  in  those  passages  in  which  he  calls 
the  church  the  body  of  Christ,  and  believers  the  members 
of  this  body. 

"  As  a  body  in  general,  the  church  is  an  organic  union 
of  many  members,  which  have  indeed  different  gifts  and 
callings,  yet  are  pervaded  by  the  same  life-blood,  ruled 
by  the  same  head,  animated  by  the  same  soul,  all  working 
together  towards  the  same  end."*  Now  in  a  somewhat 
analogous  sense,  the  family  is  an  organic  unity.  As  the 
church  is  the  dwelling-place  of  Christ,  in  which  he  exerts 
all  the  powers  of  his  theanthropic  life,  so  the  family  is 
a  union  of  members  pervaded  by  the  parental  spirit  and 
*  Dr.  Schaff^s  Apostolic  Church. 


22  HOME. 

life,  constituting  an  organic  unity  of  the  household.  A 
common  life  animates  every  member,  inducing  spiritual 
assimilation  and  prompting  a  co-operative  tendency  to  a 
common  result. 

ORGANIC  UNITY  OF  THE  FAMILY. 

No  being  possesses  an  unmixed  individuality.  Every 
one  is  affected  by  his  social  relations  and  affinities.  But 
the  child  in  the  family  is  in  a  peculiar  sense  the  subject 
of  a  power  beyond  itself,  from  the  organic  connection  of 
character  subsisting  between  the  parents  and  the  child. 

According  to  Dr.  Bushnell,  the  organic  unity  of  the 
family  is  that  power  of  the  parents  over  the  children, 
unconsciously  exercised  and  received,  by  which  the 
manners,  personal  views,  prejudices,  practical  motives  and 
spirit  of  the  house,  are  as  an  atmosphere  which  passes 
into  all  and  pervades  all,  as  naturally  as  the  air  they 
breathe.  The  child  opens  into  conscious  life,  under  the 
soul  of  the  parent,  streaming  into  his  eyes  and  ears  ;  it  lives 
for  a  time  within  the  moral  agency  of  the  parent,  and 
passes  out  by  degrees,  through  a  course  of  mixed  agency 
to  proper  independency  and  self-possession.  The  general 
tone  and  spirit  of  the  house  gives  the  will  its  first  move- 
ment, and  may  be  called  atmospheric;  for  it  is  breathed 
into  the  child's  soul  before  he  is  conscious  of  it.  Thus  all 
the  various  moods  of  feeling,  sentiment,  and  affection 
propagate  themselves  in  young  hearts. 

According  to  this  view,  it  is  not  so  much  what  parents 


HOME.  23 

intend  or  plan  for  their  children,  as  what  they  are,  that  is 
to  have  its  effect.  They  are  connected  by  an  organic 
unity,  not  with  your  instructions,  but  with  your  life.  All 
instructions  and  by-means,  cannot  atone  for  the  absence 
of  a  right  spirit  and  life  in  the  family. 

"  No  mere  affectations  and  will-work,  can  cheat  the  laws 
of  life  and  character  ordained  by  God.  Your  character 
is  a  stream,  a  river,  flowing  down  upon  your  children, 
hour  by  hour.  What  you  do  here  and  there,  to  carry  an 
opposing  influence,  is  at  best,  only  a  ripple,  that  you  make 
on  the  surface  of  the  stream.  It  reveals  the  sweep  of  the 
current,  nothing  more.  If  you  expect  your  children  to 
go  with  the  ripple,  instead  of  the  stream,  you  will  be  dis- 
appointed. Understand  that  it  is  the  family  spirit,  the 
organic  life  of  the  house,  that  which  works  by  an  un- 
conscious, unseen  power  and  perpetually — the  silent  power 
of  a  domestic  godliness  —  this  it  is  which  forms  your  chil- 
dren to  God.  And  if  this  be  wanting,  all  that  you  may  do 
beside  will  be  as  likely  to  annoy  and  harden  as  to  bless."* 

This  solemn  and  responsible  aspect  of  the  family  rela- 
tion is  but  dimly  seen,  and  scarcely  recognized  by  many 
religionists.  Some  have  stared  at  Bushnell  as  a  mystic 
dreamer,  and  repudiated  his  theory  of  Christian  culture, 
based  upon  the  organic  unity  of  the  family,  as  mere  senti- 
mental speculations,  if  not  something  worse.     And  yet, 

*  Bushnell  on  Christian  Culture. 


24  HOME. 

■whatever  o])jections  may  be  made  to  the  technical  phrase- 
ology or  form  of  this  theory,  the  fact  is  undeniable,  that 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  home  spirit  and  life  —  a  domes- 
tic atmosphere  and  life,  which  we  can  recognize  and  feel 
as  we  enter,  and  mingle  in  the  home-circle.    In  one  family 
it  is  a  spirit  of  money ;  in  another,  social  ambition  ;  in 
another,  pleasure ;  in  another,  unceasing  mutual  irritation, 
where  each  man  is  an  overreaching  Esau;   in  another, 
petty  anxieties,  where  every  woman  is  a  troubled  Martha ; 
in  another,  it  is  a  felt  irreligiousness ;  in  another,  it  is 
religious    duty,  a  genial   spirit   of  love   and   sanctity,  a 
religious  home -life.     There   may  be   great  diversity  of 
temper  and  character  in  the  individual  members  of  the 
household,  yet  you  will  discover  running  through  them  all 
a  certain  family  character,  a  spirit  of  the  house,  giving 
moral  complexion  to  the  whole.     How  solemn  and  respon- 
sible the  position  of  parents  !     They  must  transmit  their 
spirit  and  life  into  their  children.    Their  life  will  be  trans- 
lated into  them,  their  odor  will  be  forever  in  their  gar- 
ments, their  spirit  will  be  perpetually  breathed  into  their 
natures,  forming  character  day  by  day,  for  salvation  or 
perdition.     "  If  a  man  were  to  be  set  before  a  mirror, 
with  the  feeling  that  the  exact  image  of  what  he  is  for 
the  day  is  there  to  be  produced  and  left  as  a  permanent 
and  fixed  image  forever,  to  what  carefulness,  what  delicate 
sincerity  of  spirit  would  he  be  moved !     And  will  he  be 
less  moved  to  the  same,  when  that  mirror  is  the  soul  of 
his  child?" 


11  0  M  E .  25 

This  law  of  the  House,  call  it  organic  unity  or  what 
you  please,  was  ordained  originally  for  the  nurture  of  holy 
virtue,  in  the  beginning  of  each  soul's  history.  The 
introduction  of  sin,  has  perverted  this  beneficent  law  of 
the  household,  and  made  it  a  fearful  instrument  of  evil. 
But  every  principle  of  analogy  and  every  right  conception 
of  the  recuperative  economy  of  grace,  lead  us  to  expect 
that  Christianity  would  take  possession  of  this  organic  law 
of  the  family,  sanctify  it,  and  make  it  instrumentally  sub- 
servient to  the  merciful  designs  of  holiness  and  salvation. 
So  that  the  very  organic  unity  of  the  race,  which  propa- 
gates the  moral  virus  of  sin,  is  made  a  sanctified  medium 
of  spiritual  life. 

It  is  easy  to  see  what  elements  of  power  inhere  and 
operate  in  the  family  organism-power,  for  evil  or  good. 
What  tremendous  issues  are  dependent  upon  the  ruling 
spirit  and  life  of  the  household  ! 

Every  family  has  its  law  of  family  life  —  its  ruling 
principle  or  passion.  And  that  law  —  according  as  it  is  a 
law  of  sin  or  of  holiness  —  of  the  world  or  of  Christ,  will 
make  the  family  a  tremenduous  organism  of  evil  and 
death,  or  a  sanctuary  of  spiritual  life  and  culture  —  a 
church,  in  which  the  silent  power  of  a  domestic  godliness 
shall  mould  childhood  to  virtue,  God,  and  heaven. 

As  the  other  aspects  and  relations  of  the  family  will  be 

specially  considered  in  the  succeeding    chapters  of  this 

volume,  we  now  claim  attention  to  the  one  normal  idea  of 

the  Family,  as  the  school  of  childhood,  the  seminary  of 

3 


26  HOME. 

state  and  cliiircli.  The  development  of  tins  idea,  will 
show  that  the  domestic  constitution  in  its  original  functions, 
according  to  the  Divine  ideal,  is  as  essential  as  the  ele- 
mentary scliool  of  grace  to  the  full  effect  of  the  remedial 
economy,  and  fundamental  to  all  social  progress  and 
Christian  civilization. 

This  high  and  distinctive  aim  of  the  family,  was 
variously  affirmed  during  the  theocratic  period.  When 
vindicating  the  inviolable  sanctity  of  the  conjugal  tie,  the 
prophet  asks,*  "Did  He  not  make  one  ?  though  He  had 
the  residue  of  the  Spirit.  And  why  one?  That  he 
might  seek  a  godly  seed."  The  original  formation  of  one 
man  and  one  woman  into  "one  flesh,"  or  conjugal  body, 
contemplated  the  rearing  of  a  pious  ofispring.  Other  and 
inferior  ends  were  to  be  secured  by  it,  but  this  was  its 
ultimate  design.  The  Christian  ideal  of  the  family  is  that 
of  a  normal  religious  school  for  the  education  of  childhood 
—  to  which  the  physical  object,  the  propagation  of  the 
race,  is  subordinate  and  subservient.  Christianity  seeks 
by  the  consecration  of  each  family,  to  beautify  the  world 
with  religious  Homes,  as  the  firmament  is  gemmed  with 
stars.  And  thus  to  make  earth  a  divine  school,  in  which 
to  rear  a  sinful  race  for  glory  and  immortality. 

As  introductory  to  the  consecutive  Home-scenes  brought 
to  view  in  this  volume,  we  are  led  to  consider  this  pri- 
mordial design  of  the  Family,  as  the  elementary  school  of 

the  race. 

*  Mai.  ii.  15. 


HOME.  27 


HOME,  THE  NORMAL  SCHOOL  OF  CHILDHOOD. 

"  Take  this  child  away  and  nurse  it  for  me,  and  I  will  give  thee 
thy  wages." 

"Break  oblivion's  sleep, 

And  toil  with  florist's  art 
To  plant  the  gems  of  virtue  deep 

In  childhood's  fruitful  heart. 
To  thee  the  babe  is  given, 

Fair  from  its  glorious  Sire, 
Go,  nurse  it  for  the  King  of  Heaven, 

And  He  will  pay  the  hire." 

Home  must  be  the  earliest  and  most  influential  school. 
Nowhere  else  is  so  much  infused  into  our  entire  being : 
and  at  no  after-period  of  life,  are  such  elements  at  work, 
formative  of  human  character  and  destiny,  as  in  the 
plastic  and  impressible  years  of  childhood.  Whatever 
may  be  our  theories  of  the  organic  life  of  home,  it  is  there 
the  soul  of  childhood  inspires  the  very  life  of  after  years, 
receives  the  radical  principles  and  moral  bias  of  manhood, 
the  very  cast  and  current  of  destiny.  And  hence,  how 
wonderfully  has  the  Father  of  spirits  pre-arranged  the 
scene  into  which  the  infant  comes  for  its  education !  The 
world  into  which  the  little  sojourner  comes  is  precon- 
figured  not  only  to  its  bodily  constitution,  but  with  mani- 
fold hidden  adaptations  and  influences,  for  the  gradual 
unfolding  of  mind  and  moral  development.  So  that  life 
is  a  school  from  our  earliest  consciousness.  The  periods 
of   life  are  its  terms ;    all  human  conditions  are  but  its 


28  HOME. 

forms.  Families  arc  the  primary  departments  of  this 
moral  education  ;  the  world  is  but  the  material  structure 
reared  for  the  administration  of  its  teachings. 

1.  The  advent  of  the  child  is  into  a  world,  in  which 
there  exists  the  most  wonderful  adaptations  of  nature  for 
the  awakening  and  development  of  the  soul.  In  early 
childhood,  external  nature  seems  to  imprint  itself  photo- 
graphically upon  the  uninscribed  and  plastic  soul.  "  With 
what  an  early  care  and  wonderful  apparatus  does  Provi- 
dence begin  the  work  of  human  education  !  An  infant 
being  is  cast  upon  the  lap  of  nature,  not  to  be  supported 
or  nourished  only,  but  to  be  instructed.  The  world  is  its 
school.  All  elements  around,  are  its  teachers.  Long  ere 
it  is  placed  on  the  first  form  before  the  human  master,  it 
has  been  at  school ;  insomuch  that  a  distinguished  states- 
man has  said  with  equal  truth  and  originality,  that  he  had 
probably  obtained  more  ideas  by  the  age  of  five  or  six 
years,  tlian  he  has  acquired  ever  since.  And  what  a  won-» 
derful  ministration  is  it !  What  mighty  masters  are  there 
for  the  training  of  infancy,  in  the  powers  of  surrounding 
nature !  With  a  finer  influence  than  any  human  dicta- 
tion, they  penetrate  the  secret  places  of  that  embryo 
soul,  and  bring  it  into  life  and  light.  From  the  soft 
breathings  of  Spring  to  the  rough  blasts  of  Winter,  each 
one  pours  a  blessing  upon  its  favourite  child,  expanding 
its  frame  for  action,  or  fortifying  it  for  endurance.  You 
seek  for  celebrated  schools  and  distinguished  teachers  for 
your  children ;  and  it  is  well.     Or  you  cannot  afford  to 


HOME.  29 

give  them  these  advantages,  and  you  regret  it.  But  con- 
sider what  you  have.  Talk  we  of  far-sought  and  expen- 
sive processes  of  education  ?  That  infant  eye  hath  its 
master  in  the  sun ;  that  infant  ear  is  attuned  by  the 
melodies  and  harmo'nies  of  the  wide,  the  boundless  crea- 
tion. The  goings  on  of  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  are 
the  courses  of  childhood's  lessons.  The  shows  that  are 
painted  on  the  dome  of  the  sky  and  on  the  uplifted  moun- 
tains, and  on  the  spreading  plains  and  seas,  are  its 
pictured  diagrams.  Immensity,  infinity,  eternity,  are  its 
teachers.  The  great  universe  is  the  shrine,  from  which 
oracles,  oracles  by  day  and  by  night,  are  forever  uttered. 
Well  may  it  be'  said  that  "of  such,"  of  beings  so  cared 
for,  "is  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  Well  and  fitly  is  it 
written  of  him,  who  comprehended  the  w^ondrous  birth  of 
humanity  and  the  gracious  and  sublim.e  providence  of 
heaven  over  it,  that  "he  took  little  children  in  his  arms 
and  blessed  them."* 

Influences  are  thus  streaming  in  upon  the  child  from 
the  great  surrounding  system  into  which  he  has  come. 
Every  object  soon  becomes  a  book,  and  every  place  a 
school-house.  "  While  we  have  been  teaching  him  to 
walk,  he  has  been  mentally  running  and  flying  in  a 
thousand  directions.  While  we  are  filling  his  little  hands 
with  flowers,  the  garden  and  the  field  are  pouring  all  their 
botany  and  zoology  into  his  mind." 

2.  But  after  all,  this  outward  system  of  nature,  is  but 

*  Dewey  —  School  of  Life. 

3* 


30  HOME. 

tlic  material  structure  for  the  administration  of  tlie  moral 
teachings  of  the  family.  "What  the  child  learns  at  home, 
will  determine  what  he  shall  see  and  hear  in  the  lighted 
dome  above,  or  the  vocal  universe  around  us. 

The  fact  that  the  child  is  introduced  by  the  Divine  or- 
dination into  the  bosom  of  the  family,  is  in  itself  an  in- 
timation that  Home  is  the  true  school  of  childhood,  and 
that  in  the  family,  would  be  found  the  requisites,  for  tlie 
education  of  the  child  in  all  that  pertains  to  its  highest 
well-being.  How  beautifully  is  every  thing  in  the 
domestic  economy,  prearranged  and  adjusted  for  this 
educational  purpose.  The  relations  between  parent  and 
child,  and  all  the  social  affinities  of  home,  are  so  many 
natural  facilities,  for  the  training  of  the  young.  The 
natural  instincts  and  affections  are  peculiarly  adnpted 
and  made  subservient  to  the  same  end.  And  then,  ''  it  is 
a  wise  ordination  of  Providence,  that  at  our  outset  in  life, 
we  should  come  in  contact  with  human  nature  under  its 
best  aspect ;  that,  under  the  relation  of  parent  and  child, 
we  should  form  our  first  acquaintance  with  humanity."  * 
By  this  arrangement  the  child  learns  in  the  tender  solici- 
tude and  love  of  earthly  parents,  to  recognize  the  higher 
love  of  its  Father  in  Heaven.  The  mother  wakens  earliest 
in  the  child  the  sentiment  of  love.  It  is  her  embrace 
^that  first  unlocks  his  heart,  and  opens  its  mysterious 
and  unfathomable  issues.  It  is  thus,  that  home  is 
formed  for  the  development  and  education  of  tho 
*  Parkinson's  Hulsean  Lectures. 


HOME.  31 

heart.  Love  watches  over  our  Wrth.  The  first  human 
feeling  extended  towards  us  is  a  mother's  love.  The  first 
human  force  we  meet  is  woman's  love.  All  this  tends  to 
waken  and  unfold  the  affections,  to  give  them  their  culture 
and  hasten  their  growth.  Another  fact  conducive  to  the 
same  end  is,  that  the  child  is  committed  to  the  parents, 
with  a  nature  uninscribed  and  impressible,  ready  to  re- 
ceive through  them  the  signature  of  Heaven,  and  the  im- 
print of  the  Divine  image.  It  is  obvious  from  these  pre- 
ordained facilities  for  the  education  of  the  child  in  the 
family,  that  whilst  other  schools  may  be  needful  as  tho 
supplement  of  domestic  training,  there  can  be  no  substi- 
tute for  Home  education.  Pestalozzi  says  —  "  There  are 
no  better  teachers  than  the  house,  or  the  father's  and 
mother's  love,  and  the  labor  at  home,  and  all  the  wants 
and  necessities  of  life.  It  is  this  domestic  education, 
which,  of  all  others,  is  most  wanting  in  all  classes  under 
our  present  system.  Without  it,  ijuhlic  education  may  be 
good  in  an  intellectual  point  of  view  (though  even  that  is 
difficult ;)  in  a  moral  it  must  be  defective,  if  not  worse. 
The  tendency  of  modern  institutions,  fond  of  masses,  and 
co-operation,  and  broad  effects,  and  sudden  display,  is  to 
weaken  and  limit  these  home-bred  influences." 

The  hand  of  God  has  placed  the  child  in  the  Home- 
school,  and  put  in  the  hands  of  the  parents  the  key  to 
the  recesses  of  its  heart ;  and,  if  they  fail  to  use  it,  those 
depths  remain  closed  to  every  other  agent.     No  extra- 


domestic   tuition   can   compensate   for    the   want   of    this 
normal,  divinely  ordained  school  of  childhood. 

"Drive  not  a  timid  infant  from  his  home,  in  the  early  spring-time 
of  liis  life  — 
Commit  not  that  treasure  to  an  hireling." 

3.  As  the  family  is  ordained  of  God  as  the  normal 
school  of  childhood,  it  must  be  the  most  influential,  the 
most  formative  of  character.  The  reasons  for  this  as- 
sumption are  found  in  the  fact,  that  the  domestic  constitu- 
tion is  pre-arranged  by  the  Divine  Hand  for  this  grand 
end,  in  which  pre-arrangement  are  involved  the  adapta- 
tions and  facilities  to  this  end,  to  which  we  have  just 
referred.  In  harmony  with  these  appointed  requisites  in 
the  family  for  the  education  of  childhood,  we  may  notice 
that  the  education  of  the  child  begins  with  the  moment 
of  its  birth.  Its  education  can  be  no  more  suspended 
than  its  life.  "Prior  to  its  birth,* the  mother  may  be 
regarded  as  living  in  the  soul  of  the  child ;  at  that  moment 
the  child  begins  to  live  for  a  time  in  the  soul  of  the 
mother.  While  the  father  is  yet  marking  the  moment  of 
its  birth,  its  first  pulse  has  already  dated  its  training  for 
eternity." 

The  young  immortal  makes  its  advent  into  the  family, 
passive,  ductile,  impressible.  There  it  is  to  waken  into 
its  first  sensuous  experience,  there  to  feel  the  first  flush  of 
passion,  and  the  first  touch  of  pity,  there  to  will  with  the 
first  motive  jf  hope,  and  there  to  love  with  the  first  gush 


HOME. 


33 


of  affection.  How  mucli  begins  there !  If  mind  like 
matter  moves  in  the  direction  of  the  impelling  force,  how 
momentous  is  the  first  impulse.  What  divergent  lines  of 
destiny  reach  out  from  the  cradle  to  glory  or  perdition  ! 

From  the  earliest  childhood,  every  thing  is  formative 
of  character.  At  first,  the  parents  can  do  but  little  more 
than  protect  the  tender  germ  from  ungenial  influences, 
careful  that  the  maternal  heaven  over  it  be  pure  and 
cloudless,  and  surrounding  the  infant  bud  with  the  quiet 
atmosphere  of  a  cheerful  home,  that  it  may  spontaneously 
unfold  as  an  opening  flower  in  vernal  suns. 

During  the  earliest  stages  of  childhood  it  is  open  to  im- 
pressions, and  the  character  is  forming  under  a  principle 
not  of  choice,  but  of  nurture.  The  spirit  of  the  house  is 
breathed  into  his  nature  day  by  day.  The  variant  moods 
of  feeling  in  the  household  pass  into  him  as  impressions, 
and  become  seeds  of  character  in  him  —  not  because  the 
parents  will,  but  because  it  must  be  so,  whether  they  will 
or  not.  "  They  propagate  their  own  evil  in  the  child,  not 
by  design,  but  under  a  law  of  morn^  infection."  How 
important  the  moral  atmosphere  of  the  house,  in  the 
initial  nurture  of  the  child  ! 

4.  Gradually,  the  child  passes  out  of  this  state  of  mere 
passivity,  and  becomes  receptive  of  influence  in  the 
common  sense  of  that  term.  It  responds  to  the  maternal 
smile  and  look  of  love  —  any  kind  of  sentiment  or  feeling 
in  the  parental  face,  wakens  a  responsive  sentiment  or 
passiion.     Next  it  begins   to    apprehend  the  meaning  of 


84  n  0  M  E . 

words,  and  is  influenced  by  the  parent  through  the  medium 
of  language.  "  Farther  on,  the  parents  begin  to  govern 
him  by  appeals  to  will,  expressed  in  commands,  and  what- 
ever their  requirement  may  be,  he  can  as  little  withstand 
it,  as  the  violet  can  cool  the  scorching  sun,  or  the  tattered 
leaf  can  tame  the  hurricane."  ....  During  all  this  time, 
the  parents  arc  transfusing  their  spirit,  sentiments  and 
life  into  the  child,  working  a  cliaracter  in  him,  the  very 
transcript  of  their  own,  by  virtue  of  an  organic  power. 
And  as  the  child,  in  the  wise  adjustments  of  Providence, 
remains  for  years  in  this  primary  school,  the  parents  have 
an  opportunity,  not  only  of  tracing  on  its  heart  the 
first  inscriptions  which  it  receives,  and  of  moulding  its 
character  while  it  is  in  its  most  impressible  state,  but  of 
continuing  to  retouch  and  deepen  those  impressions  for  a 
succession  of  years. 

5.  Take  as  a  final  consideration,  showing  the  transcen- 
dent importance  of  this  school  in  the  family,  the  familiar 
fact,  that  the  impression's  received  there,  are  the  most 
lasting  and  influential.  ''  Every  first  thing  continues  for- 
ever with  the  child ;  the  first  color,  the  first  music,  the 
first  flower,  paint  the  foreground  of  life.  Every  new 
educator  effects  less  than  his  predecessor;  until,  at  last, 
if  we  regard  all  life  as  an  educational  institution,  a  cir- 
cumnavigator of  the  world  is  less  influenced  by  all  the 
nations  he  has  seen  than  by  his  nurse."* 

We  need  not  dwell  upon  the  enduring  and   formative 

*  Richter's  Levana. 


HOME.  6b 

outoncy  of  tlie  early  impressions  of  cliildhood.  It  is  a 
fact  expressed  in  the  convictions,  and  confirmed  by  the 
observations  of  mankind.  The  first  influences  and  in- 
structions determine  almost  to  a  certainty  those  which  are 
to  act  with  a  governing  power  on  the  soul  throughout  life. 
It  has  been  said  that  the  man  is  made  at  six  years  of  age. 
The  after  process  is  the  filling  up  of  the  previous  outlines. 
A  whole  eternity  is  enfolded  in  the  tender  years  of  child- 
hood. And  what  gives  additional,  we  may  say,  moment- 
ous interest,  to  these  impressible  and  formative  years,  is 
the  fact  that  there  is  but  one  youth  in  our  being.  There 
may  be  a  second  childhood,  but  not  a  second  youth.  The 
precious,  momentous  period  of  youth,  when  it  leaves  us, 
passes  away  forever.  There  is  no  Gibeon  in  life  upon 
which  we  can  rest  for  a  moment,  the  morning  or  the  noon- 
tide. "  We  cannot  rekindle  the  morning  beams  of  child- 
hood; we  cannot  recall  the  noontide  glory  of  youth." 
Never,  no,  never !  Momentous  crisis,  —  the  season  of 
youth  !  What  unutterable  interest  attaches  to  the  family, 
the'hursery  where  these  germs  of  immortality  are  grown ; 
where  character  is  formed  for  life,  and  destiny  is  deter- 
mined for  eternity ! 

Having  thus  considered  what  Home  must  be  as  the 
normal  school  of  childhood,  we  have  virtually  anticipated 
what  Home,  as  such  a  school,  ought  to  be.  As  it  is  the 
earliest  and  most  influential  school,  it  ought  to  be  the  most 
religious. 

The  Family,  according  to  the  Divine  ideal,  must  be  the 


86  HOME. 

CHURCH  OF  CHILDHOOD. 

As  Paradise  Avas  the  home  of  man  in  innocence,  so  home 
was  meant  to  be  the  Paradise  of  childhood,  where  the  family 
should  pass  through  a  moral  probation.  How  responsible, 
in  this  aspect,  the  position  of  this  primary  institution ! 
How  beautiful  the  relations  and  sanctities  of  Home,  as  the 
sanctuary  of  childhood  —  a  garden  of  Eden,  without  the 
tempter. 

In  a  truly  Christian  home,  the  child  is  received  by  the 
parents  out  of  the  hand  of  God ;  and  while  clasping  it  to 
their  hearts  of  love,  they  look  reverently  up  to  their  higher 
Father,  with  the  prayer  it  may  be  saved  in  the  life  ever- 
lasting. Such  parents  receive  the  child  in  the  name  of 
Christ.  The  young  immortal  inhales  the  spiritual  atmo- 
sphere of  a  domestic  godliness ;  the  very  life  and  feelings 
of  the  parents  pass  into  the  child,  as  impressions,  and 
become  seeds  of  character,  and  the  entire  order,  peace, 
and  sanctity  of  the  Christian  home ;  "  the  sacred  and 
cheerful  liberty  of  the  spirit,  all  glowing  about  the  young 
soul  as  a  warm  and  genial  nurture,  form  in  it,  by  methods 
that  are  silent  and  imperceptible,  a  spirit  of  duty  and 
religious  obedience  to  God.  This  is  Christian  nurture, 
the  nurture  of  the  Lord."* 

Where  all  the  conditions  of  the  Christian  home  are 
realized,  we  believe  the  child,  with  rare  exceptions,  will 

*  Bushnell's  Christian  Culture. 


HOME.  37 

grow  up   a   Christian,  and  the  familj  be  in  reality  the 
nursery  of  the  church. 

As  the  general  relations  of  the  family  will  be  con- 
sidered hereafter,  we  shall  glance  now  at  the  special 
conditions  of  the  Christian  home,  involved  in  parental 
duty  and  essential  to  the  spiritual  nurture  of  childhood. 

1.  The  first  condition  relates  to  the  reception  of  the 
child  into  the  family.  "  Whosoever  shall  receive  this 
child  in  my  name,  receiveth  me."  The  Saviour  indicates 
to  parents  in  this  declaration  how  they  should  greet  the 
new-born  soul,  on  its  advent  into  the  household  —  with 
what  feelings  to  clasp  it  to  their  hearts  —  how  to  estimate 
the  immortal  nursling,  and  with  what  grand  purpose  to 
conduct  its  nurture  and  education.  It  is  not  to  be 
received  merely  with  a  sentim.ental  admiration,  or  an 
indulgent  fondness  —  with  selfish  aims  and  purposes  ;  but 
in  the  name  of  Christ.  Such  a  reception  is  compre- 
hensive of  all  parental  duty  to  the  child.  It  involves  a 
recognition  of  the  sanctity  of  the  child  as  an  immortal 
being — as  an  inheritor  of  Christ's  promises,  and  partaker 
of  his  redemption  —  as  the  appointed  subject  of  baptism, 
of  prayer,  and  of  inward  renewal  —  to  grow  up,  under  the 
spiritual  culture  of  home,  a  disciple  of  Jesus,  a  Christian, 
an  expectant  heir  of  eternal  glory. 

2.  Such  a  reception  of  the  child,  in  the  name  of  Christ, 
will  naturally  lead  to  its  formal  dedication  to  God.  This 
is  a  duty  recognized  by  all  Christians,  of  whatever  name. 
It  would  seem,  indeed,  to  be  a  suggestion  of  nature,  since 

4 


38  11  0  M  E . 

•\vc  find  somctliluf^  like  it  even  among  tlic  licatlicn.  As 
the  devotees  of  Juggernaut  arc  drawing  along  the  idol-car, 
bearing  the  god  whom  they  worship,  the  heathen  mother 
places  the  hands  of  the  infant  upon  the  ropes ;  thus  early 
seeking  to  produce  impressions  of  duty  to  worship  his 
mother's  god.  Williams,  the  missionary,  relates,  that  the 
mother  in  the  South  Sea  Islands,  even  before  a  child  was 
born,  used  to  go  to  the  temple  with  the  requisite  offering, 
where  the  priest  performed  the  ceremony  of  infusing  "  the 
spirit  of  the  god"  into  the  child.  After  its  birth,  the 
same  rite  w^as  repeated.  The  old  Romans  had  a  touching 
superstition,  of  holding  the  face  of  the  new-born  infant 
upward  to  the  heavens ;  signifying,  by  thus  presenting  its 
forehead  to  the  stars,  that  it  was  to  look  above  the  world 
into  celestial  glories.  Christianity  gives  us  the  clear 
realization  of  that  dim,  pagan  yearning,  in  a  Christian 
baptism  and  training.  What  shall  be  said  of  professedly 
Christian  parents  who  do  not  discover  even  the  heathen's 
sensibility,  and  with  all  the  blessed  ordinances  of  the  Son 
of  God  in  their  sight,  w^ithhold  their  children  from  Christian 
baptism,  and  the  benediction  of  the  church  ?* 

Having  received  the  child  in  the  name  of  Christ,  sur- 
render him,  in  holy  baptism,  to  both  the  mercy  and  the 
authority  of  the  sovereign  Trinity  —  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost;  and  then  receive  him  from  the  baptismal 
font  and  benedictive  arms  of  Christ  as  a  sacred  trust,  con- 

*  Huntington. 


HOME.  39 

secrated  and  pledged  for  God,  to  be  nurtured  for  Christ 

and  glory. 

"  And  happiest  ye,  who  seal'd  and  blest, 
Back  to  your  arms  your  treasure  take, 
"With  Jesus'  mark  impressed, 
To  nurse  for  Jesus'  sake." 

3.  This  dedication  prepares  the  way  for  the  religious 
education  of  the  child.  As  the  act  of  dedication  was  an 
acknowledgment  of  the  parents'  dependence  on  God,  this 
duty  of  religious  training  implies  his  responsibility.  In 
the  yet  sleeping  faculties  of  his  babe,  the  Christian  parent 
beholds  a  capacity  which  is  to  be  developed  not  only  to 
the  limits  of  time,  but  to  unending  issues.  Of  this  parental 
duty  and  its  method,  we  remark,  that  they  comprehend  : 

Prayer.  —  Your  child,  says  one,  must  know,  he  must 
see,  he  must  feel,  that  between  your  parent-heart  and  Him 
who  is  the  infinite  Father  of  all,  there  is  open  and 
conscious  communion.  This  prayer  is  needful  for  the 
parents  themselves,  that  they  may  have  wisdom  and 
grace,  faith  and  patience,  in  their  responsible  work.  It 
is  needful,  as  the  ordained  method  of  securing  the  divine 
blessing  upon  the  child,  and  of  giving  power  and  efiiciency 
to  all  other  means  for  its  religious  culture.  Besides, 
this  confiding  daily  intercourse  between  the  household  and 
Heaven  will  awaken  in  the  child  a  conscious  relation  to 
the  unseen  and  the  eternal.  And  as  the  vague  dreams 
of  Infinity  and  dim  presentiments  in  the  depths  of  the 
soul  are  awakened,   he  is  prepared   to  look  up,   as   the 


40  HOME. 

materrical  finger  points  to  Heaven,  and  to  find  in  God  that 
'svliicli  he  had  previously  found  in  his  parents.  Prayer, 
-with  and  for  our  children,  is  among  the  very  first  duties 
in  this  domestic  education. 

"  Hold  the  little  hands  in  prayer 

Let  him  see  thee  speaking  to  thy  God  ;  he  will  not  forget  it  after- 
wards ; 

AVhcn  old  and  gray  will  he  feelingly  remeniLer  a  mother's  tender 
piety, 

And  the  touching  recollection  of  her  prayers,  shall  arrest  the 
strong  man  in  his  sin." 

Biblical  Teaching.  —  Receiving  the  child  in  Christ's 
name,  it  is  to  be  studiously  taught  Christ's  Gospel.  Pa- 
tiently and  humbly  must  the  great  facts,  and  personages, 
sublime  truths,  touching  incidents,  and  beautiful  imagery 
of  the  Bible,  be  familiarized  to  the  mind  of  childhood. 
"  Its  psalms  must  be  sung  into  his  soul.  Its  beatitudes 
and  commandments  must  be  fixed  in  his  remembrance. 
Its  parables  must  engage  his  fancy.  Its  miracles  must 
awe  his  wonder.  Its  cross  and  ark,  and  all  its  sacred  em- 
blems, must  people  his  imagination.  Without  that  Bible, 
no  child  born  among  us  can  come  to  Him,  whom  only  the 
Bible  reveals."  The  Christian  fidelity  of  parents,  in  this 
duty,  should  be  such  as  to  justify  the  affirmation  concern- 
ing each  one  of  their  children,  as  of  Timothy  —  "that 
from  a  child  thou  hast  known  the  Holy  Scriptures,  which 
are  able  to  make  thee  wise  unto  salvation,  through  faith, 
which  is  in  Christ  Jesus." 

Example. — No  formal  teaching,  or  devotions,  will  avail 


HOME.  41 

without  a  liolj  life  and  example.  According  to  the  laws 
of  the  house  already  referred  to,  it  is  not  so  much  wdiat 
parents  plan  and  intend  for  their  children,  as  what  they 
are,  that  is  to  have  its  effect.  The  child  is  connected  by 
an  organic  unity,  not  with  your  instructions,  but  with 
your  life.  And  your  life  is  more  powerful  than  your  in- 
structions can  be.  The  spirit  of  the  house  which  is  your 
spirit,  the  whole  working  of  the  house  which  is  actuated 
by  you,  the  silent  poAver  of  home  piety,  it  is  this  that  will 
form  your  children  to  virtue  and  godliness.  What  you 
are  they  will  almost  necessarily  be.*  Such  is  the  consti- 
tuted relation  of  the  family,  that  you  must  transmit  not 
only  your  name  and  physical  temperament,  but  breathe 
into  your  children,  your  very  spirit  and  life.  "  Singly 
and  solely  on  the  supposition  that  the  spiritual  life  of  the 
parents  is  transplanted  into  the  children,  does  the  com- 
munication of  corporeal  life  become  a  blessing. "f  It  is, 
therefore,  by  a  religious  life,  that  this  Christian  nurture 
of  childhood  is  to  be  secured. 

God  hath  set  Israel  in  families,  that  the  piety  of  the 
parents  may  infold  the  spirit  of  the  child  —  embosoming 
the  young  immortal  in  the  love  of  God,  so  that  it  grows 
in  the  nurture  of  the  Lord,  as  naturally  as  the  bud 
unfolds  its  flower  and  beauty  to  the  summer  air  and  sun. 
Let  those  who  occupy  the  responsible  position  of  parents, 
entrusted  with   the   religious    education    of   children,  be 

*  See  Bushnell,  on  the  Organic  Unity  of  the  Family. 
fTholuck — Sermon  on  the  Mount. 

4* 


42  n  0  .M  E . 

careful  to  maintain  a  life  of    piety,  "  allure  to  brighter 
"worlds  and  lead  the  way." 

As  inclusive  of  all  these  requisites  of  religious  culture 
and  training,  let  the  house  be  set  in  the  spiritual  order, 
let  the  home  be  Christian  in  its  spirit  and  entire  economy. 
Aristotle  ordered  that  the  artists  should  paint  or  re- 
present nothing  in  the  temple,  in  sight  of  the  children, 
but  what  was  pure  and  beautiful ;  that  their  reading 
should  be  such  as  to  foster  purity,  lest  by  the  corruption 
of  the  youth,  the  state  should  be  endangered.  From 
their  childhood,  they  were  to  see  or  hear  nothing,  that 
would,  in  the  least,  diminish  their  reverence  for  the  gods, 
for  this  would  be  subversive  of  their  religion.  This 
teaching  of  the  Grecian  philosopher,  is  worthy  of  a 
Christian  baptism  and  application.  Let  the  home  of 
childhood  be  Christian  in  its  spirit,  and  in  all  its  domestic 
economy.  Let  the  pictures  and  books  be  such  as  to 
foster  a  taste  for  the  pure  and  beautiful.  Let  the  recrea- 
tions be  such  as  are  congenial  with  enlightened  piety. 
In  short,  let  the  home  be  religious  in  form  and  spirit. 
There  let  God  be  acknowledged  in  praise  and  prayer. 
There  let  the  eternal  world  be  unveiled,  and  every 
blessing  bring  it  near  in  gratitude,  and  every  trial  draw 
down  its  consolation.  There  let  every  morning  unite  the 
family  as  at  the  gates  of  heaven,  and  every  evening  see 
them  part  with  love  and  benediction,  as  to  their  final 
rest.  Such  a  home  will  have  a  religious  atmosphere,  that 
will  counteract  the  evil  influences  that  surround  the  child 


HOME.  43 

in  the  world  without.  There  is  a  fable,  in  German  litera- 
ture, of  the  daughter  of  an  Erlking,  whose  business  it  is 
to  tempt  little  children  away  from  parents  and  home. 
Temptation  is  the  Erlking's  daughter  that  never  dies.  In 
a  thousand  winning  forms  she  seeks  to  lure  the  unsuspect- 
ing youth  from  home,  from  virtue,  from  happiness,  from 
heaven.  Let  home  be  such  as  to  shield  the  child  from 
the  assaults  of  the  great  adversary,  and  fortify  him 
against  the  seductive  pleasures  of  the  world. 

"  From  the  foul  dew,  the  blighting  air 
Watch  well  your  treasure  newly  won ; 
Heaven's  child  and  yours,  uncharm'd  by  prayer, 
May  prove  Perdition's  son." 

Happy  the  childhood  that  is  blessed  with  a  Christian 
home !  Happy  the  parents,  who  so  fulfil  the  conditions 
of  the  Christian  household,  that  their  children  can  say,  as 
one  said  of  his  parents,  "Well,  if  there  are  only  two 
Christians  in  the  world,  my  father  is  one  and  my  mother 
is  the  other."  Such  homes  and  such  parents  are  the 
greatest  blessings  and  benefactors  of  the  world.  We 
cannot  well  over-estimate  the  blessings  that  must  flow 
from 

CHRISTIAN   HOMES. 

"Bright  be  the  spot,  and  pure  the  ray, 
That  wins  the  infant's  eye ; 
A  path  of  light,  a  glorious  way, 
To  guide  his  soul  on  high." 


44  ]1  <>  M  K. 

Here,  as  the  scliool  of  childhood,  abide  the  deepest 
springs  of  social  life.  All  life  flows  from  the  centre, 
outwards.  And  whether  we  seek  to  promote  the  general 
virtue  and  order  of  society,  advance  the  special  objects 
of  philanthropy,  or  the  higlier  aims  of  Christian  culture 
in  the  grander  mission  of  the  church,  we  cannot  more 
directly  and  efficiently  accomplish  any  of  these  noble 
purposes,  than  by  learning  first  according  to  the  Apostolic 
injunction,  to  show  piety  at  home.  It  is  the  foundation 
of  all  society.  It  embosoms  the  germ  and  ideal  of  the 
state.     It  is  the  nursery  of  the  Church. 

FACTS. 

"Facts  may  be  cited,  almost  indefinitely,  to  establish 
the  connection  of  the  family  and  church.  In  one  town 
during  a  revival-season,  in  1812,  seventy-nine  persons 
were  added  to  the  church,  and  all  but  four  were  the 
members  of  pious  families.  In  another  town,  as  the  fruits 
of  a  rcA^val  in  1811,  one  hundred  were  added  to  the 
church,  eighty-eight  of  whom  were  from  pious  fcimilies. 
In  yet  another  town,  four-fifths  of  the  converts,  during  a 
revival  in  1815,  belonged  to  religious  households.  In 
another  still,  nine-tenths  of  all  the  conversions  during  a 
powerful  work  of  grace,  in  1831,  were  connected  with 
pious  families.  And  thus  in  nearly  every  "work  of  grace 
which  refreshes  Christendom  from  time  to  time,  it  will  be 
found  that  very  few  are  gathered  from  families  in  which 
the  parents   are  not  religious.     The  great  mass   of  the 


HOME.  45 

additions  to  Christ's  flock  are  from  the  families  of  the 
church.  The  history  of  every  revival  will  prove  this  from 
accurate  statistics."* 

Some  years  ago,  upon  inquiry  it  was  ascertained,  that 
out  of  eighty  theological  students  in  the  Andover  Theo- 
logical Seminary,  seventy  were  from  homes  of  piety, 
where  both  father  and  mother  were  devoted  to  the  Lord. 
In  another  theological  seminary,  all  but  six  of  the  students 
had  come  from  pious  families.  A  writer  estimates  that  of 
all  the  ministers  who  are  preaching  the  everlasting  Gospel, 
ninety-nine  hundredths  of  them  came  from  families  where 
one  parental  heart,  at  least,  was  in  true  sympathy  with 
Christ. 

How  do  such  facts  put  the  seal  of  the  Divine  favor 
upon  the  pious  home  !  How  do  they  signalize  the  Chris- 
tian household  as  the  mightiest  agency  for  all  social 
elevation  and  progress  —  furnishing  virtuous  citizens  for 
the  state,  nurturing  living  members  for  the  church,  and 
peopling  heaven  with  redeemed  and  glorified  spirits  ! 

0,  if  we  could  speak  to  the  jive  millions  of  Homes  in 
our  land,  we  would  urge  upon  the  living  heads  of  these 
families,  the  solemn  and  momentous  responsibility  of 
making  their  homes  Christian,  in  form  and  spirit.  We 
would  ask  each  one  to  consider  what  stupendous  issues  are 
dependent  upon  a  single  family !  ^'  Not  only  do  many 
living  palpitating  nerves   come   down  from  parents  and 

■^  Thayer  —  Hints  for  the  Household. 


46  n  0  M  E . 

friends,  and  centre  in  tlic  hearts  of  their  children  ;  but, 
as  they  shall  advance  in  life,  other  living  and  palpitating 
nerves,  which  no  man  can  number,  shall  go  out  from  their 
bosoms  to  twine  round  other  hearts,  and  to  feel  their 
throbs  of  pleasure,  or  of  pain,  of  rapture,  or  of  agony!" 
How  many  destinies  of  others  are  linked  with  theirs ;  for 
aught  you  know,  the  salvation  of  ten  thousand  immortal 
souls  may  result  from  the  religious  education  of  a  single 
child.  It  has  been  estimated  that  one  revival  of  religion, 
which  took  place  in  Yale  College,  under  the  presidency 
of  Dr.  D wight,  raised  up  ministers  who  were  instrumental 
in  the  conversion  of  fifty  thousand  souls  in  one  genera- 
tion. What  unutterable  results  were  mstrumentally  de- 
pendent upon  the  simple  fact,  that  Dr.  Dwight  was  blessed 
with  a  Christian  parentage,  and  his  early  years  were 
spent  in  a  Christian  home  ! 

For  the  sake  of  your  children,  let  your  home  be  sanc- 
tified by  religion  ;  let  your  teaching  and  example,  as  well 
as  the  whole  spirit  of  the  household,  be  such  as  shall  secure 
their  growth  in  the  nurture  of  the  Lord.  Then  may  you 
say  to  your  children,  as  a  dying  parent  recently  said : 
"  Such  have  been  my  instructions  to  you,  that  you  will  be 
ashamed  to  meet  me  at  the  day  of  judgment  unprepared." 
For  the  sake  of  the  church,  and  the  salvation  of  the 
world,  we  would  urge  this  plea  for  the  Christian  home. 
We  would  plead  for  the  "church  in  every  house"  with 
the  altar,  the  incense,  the  voice  of  prayer,  and  the  song 
of  praise.     There  should  be  a  church  in  every  house ;  there 


HOME.  47 

must  be,  or  the  great  cLs'gn  of  tlie  d-mestic  institution,  in 
its  benignity  to  childhood,  and  its  beneficent  relations  to 
the  church  and  the  world,  will  be  a  sad  and  deplorable 
failure.  The  family  was  ordained  of  God  for  the  religious 
nurture  of  childhood.  The  infant  members  come  into  it  as 
the  symbols  of  celestial  purity.  It  has  no  adequate 
explanation,  except  as  it  prepares  them  for  that  state 
which  they  symbolized.  If  the  earth  is  a  temple,  the 
family  was  its  "holiest  of  all;"  and  all  its  divinely 
selected  arrangements  and  influences  were  meant  to  be 
ever  crying  to  each  other,  "  Holy,  holy,  holy  is  the  Lord 
God  Almighty,"  as  the  continuous  service  of  love  and 
worship  trained  up  its  members  for  heaven.* 
"VYe  conclude  with  a  brief  excursus  upon 

THE  CHURCH  IX  THE  HOUSE. 

"  Paul  .  .  .  unto  Philemon  .  .  .  and  to  the  church  in  thy  house, 
grace  to  you  and  peace,  from  God,  our  Father,  and  the  Lord  Jesuij 
Christ." 

The  expression  ''church  in  the  house"  occurs  in  several 
of  Paul's  Epistles,  and  designates  the  little  band  of  disciples 
that  met  on  the  first  day  of  the  week,  in  some  private 
house,  for  the  worship  of  God.  Or  the  salutation  may  be 
regarded  as  addressed  to  a  family,  all  of  whose  members 
were  Christians.  For  Origen  says  that  when  a  whole 
family  was  converted,  the  salutation  was  sent  to  the 
church  in  such  a  house.     And  is  not  such  a  family,  in  a 

^  Patriarchy,  by  Harris. 


48  II  0  M  E  . 

subonlliifitc  scnj^o,  a  cliurcli  ?  The  finiiily  was  the  oldest 
church,  hohling  its  worship  before  temples  were  built,  or 
priesthoods  formed ;  and  the  true  temple  and  the  true 
priesthood,  says  one,  instead  of  rcpealin^^,  do  but  conse- 
crate anew  the  patriarchal  church,  and  Moses  and  Jesus 
both  give  new  power  and  beauty  to  the  covenant  with 
Abraham  and  the  individual  family. 

A  church  in  every  house  —  what  a  blessed  realization! 
But  how  can  this  be  ?  You  have  the  answer  in  the  bene- 
diction of  Paul  upon  the  household  of  Philemon,  "  Grace 
to  you  and  peace,  from  God,  our  Father,  and  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ."  Grace  and  peace !  these  are  the  true 
consecration  of  the  household.  Grace,  enriching  all  with 
God's  favor  through  faith  in  Christ  Jesus ;  peace,  drawing 
all  hearts  into  unity,  and  harmonizing  all  the  duties  and 
home  relations,  by  the  assimilative  power  of  divine  love. 
The  home  is  Christianized.  "  The  house,"  says  Dr.  Bush- 
nell,  *'  having  a  domestic  spirit  of  grace  dwelling  in  it, 
becomes  the  church  of  childhood,  the  table  and  hearth  a 
holy  rite,  and  life  an  element  of  saving  power.".  0  that 
such  households  were  multiplied  in  our  land,  that  the 
church  and  home  might  go  together,  and  unite  our  nation 
under  the  dominion  of  Christ,  as  under  the  empire  of  civil 
law!  The  blessings  which  flow  from  the  church  in  the 
house  arc  eloquently  represented  by  an  American  writer  : 
*'  Such  a  household  will  have  influences  and  associations 
peculiar  to  itself.  The  sons  will  be  manly  and  tender; 
the  daughters  will   be  gentle  and  strong;   parents  and 


II  0  M  E  .  49 

children,  in  tlieir  mutual  affections,  shall  bring  out  the 
finer  harmonies  of  human  lii'e,  that  show  God's  goodness, 
even  more  deeply  than  the  chants  of  the  Psalmist's  choirs. 
As  changes  come,  and  the  years  pass,  treasured  remem- 
brances shall  fill  the  home  with  images  sacred  as  the 
tablets  and  pictures  of  ancient  chapels,  and  hopes  more 
living  than  monumental  marble  can  record  in  solemn 
churchyards,  shall  proclaim  the  resurrection  and  the  life 
over  the  dead ;  and  they  who  die  of  that  family,  wherever 
they  close  their  eyes,  will  have  in  the  cherished  ministra- 
tions of  that  church  in  the  house  the  mightiest  of  all  proofs 
of  the  eternal  home.  The  house  made  with  hands  opens 
into  the  eternal  spheres,  and  its  own  life  repeats  Christ's 
assurance  of  heavenly  mansions." 

Happy  the  childhood  that  is  blessed  with  such  a  home ! 
More  than  for  all  earthly  blessings,  do  I  thank  Heaven 
for  the  religious  home,  that  gave  my  birth  a  Christian, 
baptismal  welcome,  and  surrounded  my  earliest  conscious- 
ness with  the  suggestions  and  ministries  of  a  household 
piety,  a  domestic  godliness,  which,  by  an  unconscious, 
unseen  povfer,  formed  my  open  mind  and  heart  for  God 
and  Heaven. 

"  The  thought  of  those  first  years  in  me  doth  breed 
Perpetual  benediction." 

Thanks  be  to  God ;  let  us  say  it.  Christians !  ye  whose 
early  years  were  hallowed  with  religious  homes.     Thanks 
be  to  God  for  pious  parents,  and  the  Christian  home  of  our 
5 


60  ir  0  M  E . 

cliildliood !  And  as  tlic  memory  of  sucli  a  home  still 
lingers  in  our  souls  with  a  heavenly  benediction,  shall  we 
not  seek  to  multiply  the  families  that  call  upon  God  ? 
With  such  remembrances  of  our  early  years,  and  with 
Christian  solicitude  for  the  culture  of  the  soul  in  youth, 
we  cannot  but  look  with  the  deepest  interest  upon  the 
domestic  institution.  It  is  one  whose  importance  is  de- 
monstrated by  the  instinct  v/hich  creates  it,  and  clings  to 
it.  All  through  life,  how  those  old  home-memories  and 
home-influences  surround  us  with  an  almost  magic  power  ! 
Beautifully  illustrative  of  this  mighty  instinct,  and 
memory  of  Home,  are  these  lines  of  Goldsmith  :  — 

"  In  all  my  wanderings  round  this  world  of  care, 
In  all  my  griefs  —  and  God  has  given  my  share, 
I  still  had  hopes,  my  latest  hours  to  crown, 
Amidst  these  humble  bowers  to  lay  me  down : 


+ 


I  still  had  hopes,  my  long  vexations  past, 
Here  to  return,  and  die  at  Home,  at  last." 


Yes,  is  the  responsive  feeling  of  every  Christian  heart ; 
let  me  live  in  a  Christian  home,  where  God  is  honored  in 
the  family  worship,  and  the  family  life  ;  where  the  dearest 
ties  of  earth  are  hallowed  by  a  divine  love ;  where  the 
sweet  communions  of  the  househohl  nre  made  immortal 
by  hopes  of  heaven ;  where  even  the  broken  links  in  the 
family  circle  are  retained  by  Christian  faith,  and  help  to 
draw  us  heavenward.      0  yes,  here  would  we  live  ! 

And  when  our  time  comes  to  depart,  let  our  last  look 


HOME.  51 

be  upon  the  faces  we  best  love ;  let  the  gates  that  open 
into  the  celestial  city,  be  these  well-known  doors ;  and 
thus  let  us  die  at  home,  in  a  Christian  Home.  And, 
knowing  no  better  name  for  that  world  to  which  we  go, 
we  look  up  with  eyes  of  hope  and  tearful  rapture,  and  call 
it  ^'Home." 

"  My  Father's  house,  my  heavenly  home, 
Where  *  many  mansions*  stand, 
Prepared  by  hands  divine,  for  all 
Who  seek  the  better  land.'' 


THE    HOLY   FAMILY. 

Ave  Maria!  Mntlior  blest! 

To  whom,  caress! m;  and  caressed, 

Clings  the  eternal  child  : 
Favored  beyond  archangel's  dream, 
AVhen  first  on  thee,  with  tonderest  gleam. 

Thy  newborn  Saviour  smiled."  —  Keble. 

"The  earthly  loves  which  Christ  came  to  consecrate  bear  the 
germs  of  immortal  uses,  and  arc  like  Mary's  own  emblem,  the  rose, 
which,  though  born  in  the  earth,  lifts  its  bloom  and  wafts  its 
fragrance  to  the  heavens." 

In  our  purpose  to  dcvclope  and  illustrate  the  varied 
phases  of  home-life,  it  is  natural  to  begin  with  the  "  Holy 
Family.''  Around  no  family  group  of  sacred  history  has 
the  human  heart  lingered  with  such  unmingled  wonder 
and  delight. 

"We  read  in  our  childhood  the  simple  story  of  Luke, 
concerning  the  shepherds,  who,  after  they  received  the 
message  that  a  Saviour  was  born,  and  listened  to  his  birth 
hymn,  chanted  by  the  angels,  Avent  to  Bethlehem  —  '■'and 
found  Mary  and  Joseph  and  the  babe  lying  in  a 
onanger,"  and  it  lives  in  us  a  picture  of  beauty  forever. 
From  immemorial  antiquity,  that  humble  home-scene  has 

(52) 


T  n  E     H  0  L  Y    F  A  M  I  L  Y.  53 

been  mirrored  to  the  soul,  invested  with  unearthly  sanctity 
and  a  halo  of  spiritual  beauty,  touching  our  hearts  with 
the  deepest  religious  emotions,  and  associating  itself  with 
our  purest  thoughts  of  heaven. 

And  we  ask,  what  is  it  that  thus  isolates  that  little 
group  from  all  other  family  scenes,  and  invests  that 
humble  birth-place  with  such  immortal  glory?  The 
answer  is  suggested  by  the  question.  It  was  the  imma- 
culate child  Jesus  that  threw  around  that  little  household 
such  holy  and  undying  memories.  It  was  the  birth-home 
of  the  "'holy  child  Jesus."  The  only  home  on  earth 
that  was  ever  blessed  with  a  sinless  child  —  a  child  pos- 
sessing all  the  elements  of  humanity  without  a  taint  of 
evil  to  mar  its  purity,  or  a  shadow  of  sin  to  dim  its 
celestial  beauty.  It  was  this  that  gave  to  that  little 
group  such  undying  interest,  and  immortalized  it  in 
Christian  thought  and  memory  as  the  "  Holy  Family." 

There  is  another  feature  in  this  household,  peculiar  and 
distinctive.  In  every  other  home-picture,  the  parents  are 
the  central  figures.  ''  Their  offspring,  however  they  may 
afterwards  eclipse  them,  are,  in  the  beginning  of  their 
history,  wrapped  within  those  from  whom,  in  their  fortunes 
and  in  their  character,  they  are  developed."  But  in  this 
family  group,  the  child  is  the  central  commanding  figure, 
and  so  attracts  to  himself  the  eye,  and  so  fills  the  whole 
vision  of  the  soul,  that  the  parents  are  forgotten,  and 
overshadowed  by  the  glory  of  the  child. 

Indeed,  the  bonds  of  this  family  are  peculiar,  and  in- 
5* 


54  T  II  E    HOLY    FAMILY. 

vested  -witli  hallowed  and  profound  mysteries.  Joseph  is 
but  the  foster-father  of  the  child.  As  he  bends  over  that 
infant  cradle,  it  is  with  the  love  of  a  guardian,  conscious 
of  a  holy  trust,  which  enlists  the  deepest  affections  of  his 
manly  and  loving  heart.  "  And  who  shall  define  the  tie 
which  binds  this  child  to  his  Virgin  Mother?"  It  was 
essential  to  the  divine  mission  of  Jesus,  that  he  should 
possess  human  nature,  without  any  moral  taint  or  infection 
of  its  depravity.  Hence,  according  to  the  Apostolic 
creed,  based  upon  the  sacred  narrative,  "He  was  con- 
ceived of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary. 
The  natural  and  supernatural,  were  co-efficient  factors,  in 
the  Divine  assumption  of  humanity.  The  birth  of  Christ 
was  the  result  of  a  direct  creative  act  of  God,  and  not  of 
the  ordinary  laws  of  human  generation.  Conceived  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  It  was  meet,  that 
the  incarnation  should  be  a  sacred  mystery,  around  which 
the  heart  of  the  Christian  world  should  linger  with 
mingled  emotions  of  reverence  and  holy  joy.  There  is 
something  inexpressibly  touching  in  the  thought  expressed 
by  Wordsworth,  that  in  the  Virgin  Mother,  were 
"blended  and  reconciled"  those  singular,  but  beautiful 
contrasts 

*'0f  mother's  love,  and  maiden  purity, 
Of  high  and  low,  celestial  and  terrene/' 

What  impenetrable  mysteries   intermingle  and  deepen 
the  shadows  of  this  picture  of  the  Holy  Family  ?     Who  is 


T  II  E    II  0  L  Y    F  A  M  I  L  Y  .  55 

this  child  of  supernatural  conception  and  birth?     And 

why   does   Mary   mingle    with    those    gentle    looks   and 

maternal  caresses,  the  devout  and  reverent  feelings  of  the 

worshipper?     The  answer   is   found  in  the  fact,  that  in 

this  scene  is  revealed,  "  the  great  mystery  of  Godliness, 

God  manifest  in  the  flesh!"     The  stupendous  truth  flashes 

in  upon    the    troubled    and    agitated   bosom  —  the    great 

mystery  is  unveiled  to  the  heart — this  babe  is  the  incarnate 

God! 

"Thou  -wast  born  of  woman,  thou  didst  come, 
0  Holiest !  to  this  world  of  sin  and  gloom, 
Not  in  thy  dread  omnipotent  array; 

*  -Sf  -H-  *  v«-  * 

But  thee  a  soft  and  naked  child, 
Thy  mother  undefiled, 
In  the  rude  manger  laid  to  rest 
From  off  her  virgin  breast."* 

This  home-scene  is  peculiar,  as  holding  in  its  embrace 
the  manifested  God,  the  central  fact  of  all  the  divergent 
lines  of  human  history.  "  All  the  predictions  and 
promises  of  God  which  spanned  the  arch  of  four  thousand 
years,  terminated  upon  this  babe  of  the  manger.  And 
from  this  new  salient  point,  they  spring  forth  to  span  with 
the  rainbow  of  hope  other  thousands  of  years,  terminating 
upon  his  second  advent,  when  he  shall  come  "to  be 
glorified  in  his  saints,  and  to  be  admired  in  them  that 
believe." 

What    shadows    of    the    infinite   surround   that   infant 

*  Milman's  Fall  of  Jerusalem. 


[)6  T  II  K    HOLY    F  A  M  I  L  Y  . 

cradle !  IIow  profound  the  mystery  that  enfolds  the 
cliild  with  Mary  !  IIow  august,  how  beautiful !  But  it  is 
only  on  our  knees,  with  the  eastern  sages,  before  that 
rude  manger,  in  lowliness  of  heart  and  adoring  worship 
we  can  see  it,  or  feel  it,  in  its  all-transforming  power. 

**Wrapp'd  in  his  swaddling  bands, 

And  in   his  manger  laid, 
The  hope  and  glory  of  all  lands 

Is  come  to  the  world's  aid ; 
No  peaceful  home  upon  his  cradle  smiled. 
Guests  rudely  went  and  came,  where  slept  the  royal  child." 

Millions  upon  millions  of  our  race  have  trembled  with 
joy  and  rapture  before  this  scene  of  the  incarnation,  a 
mystery  magnificent  and  thrilling.  In  the  night  of 
time,  these  voyagers,  storm-driven  upon  the  ocean  of  life, 
have  looked  up  into  the  infinite  depths  above  them,  and 
beheld  that  glory-beaming  star,  radiant  as  at  first  when 
it  was  hymned  by  the  angels  on  the  plains  of  Bethlehem, 
and  under  its  guidance  have  passed  on,  through  tempest 
and  darkness,  to  the  haven  of  everlasting  rest.* 

Every  thing  in  this  home-scene  is  unique  and  wonderful. 
The  supernatural  conception  of  the  Virgin's  Son;  the 
incarnation  of  the  Godhead  in  him ;  and  the  concentra- 
tion upon  him  of  all  the  lines  of  History  and  Prophecy, 
invest  it  with  an  unearthly  sanctity  and  grandeur.  And 
then  the  supernatural  and  mystic  ties  of  affiliation  in  the 
household,  give  a  peculiar  expression  and  coloring  to  this 

*  Theophany,  by  Turnbull. 


THE    HOLY   FAMILY.  57 

home-picture.  In  view  of  these  peculiarities,  and  hallowed 
associations,  it  stands  out  in  Christian  thought  and 
memory  as  the  Holy  Family. 

Expansion  upon  any  one  of  these  features  or  phases  of  the 
holy  family,  would  be  interesting  and  profitable ;  but  such 
a  direction  of  our  thoughts  would  not  comport  with  the 
general  scope  and  design  of  the  present  work.  Our  object 
in  adverting  to  this  sacred  picture,  is  simply  to  illustrate, 
by  the  domestic  relations  of  this  family  group,  the  true 
home  life  and  spirit  as  grounded  in  religion. 

We  take  two  aspects  of  this  home-scene ;  the  one  as  it 
appears  in  Bethlehem,  and  the  other  representing  Joseph 
with  the  young  child  and  his  mother,  fleeing  from  Herod 
into  Egypt.  These  two  phases  will  suggest  and  illustrate 
the  general  relation  of  Christianity  to  childhood  —  as 
its  friend  and  guardian  —  and  the  special  benignity  of 
the  gospel  to  children,  as  seen  in  the  maternal  relation. 

The  "Flight  to  Egypt,"  as  painted  by  some  of  the  old 
masters,  presents  these  relations  in  some  of  their  most 
touching  and  significant  aspects.  In  the  picture  we  see, 
as  the  central  figure,  a  young  child.  On  one  side  stands 
Mary,  with  troubled  anxiety,  watching  beside  her  precious 
charge ;  on  the  other,  in  the  distance,  is  the  dark  form 
of  Herod,  with  rage  and  vengeance  in  his  face,  dooming 
to  death  the  innocent  babes  of  Bethlehem.  It  is  an  elo- 
quent, moral  picture  —  the  emblem  of  a  great  and  per- 
manent reality.  We  see  in  this  pictured  flight  a  touching 
symbol  of  childhood  and  its  perils,  its  guardian  angel,  and 


58  THE     HOLY     FAMILY. 

its  evil  genius.  Mary,  witli  tlic  young  child  nestling  in 
her  bosom,  borne  aAvay  from  the  destructive  sword  of 
Herod,  is  suggestive  of  Cliristianity,  as  the  guardian  of 
childhood  against  the  destructive  power  of  sin  in  the  world, 
especially  emblematical  of  that  guardianship  as  exercised 
through  the  instrumentality  of  the  pious  mother,  and  the 
Christian  home. 

Herod  still  lives,  in  the  varied  and  seductive  forms 
of  sin,  and  seeks  the  ruin  of  innocent  and  helpless  child- 
hood ;  and  there  is  no  protection  against  the  destructive 
enemy  like  that  of  a  mother's  love  and  prayerful  vigilance, 
especially  when  that  mother  herself  is  embosomed  in  the 
church  of  Christ,  which  is  the  mother  of  us  all. 

Let  us  look  at  these  two  phases  of  the  Holy  Family  — 
first,  as  suggesting  and  illustrating  the  guardianship  of 
Christianity  over  helpless  childhood ;  and  secondly,  as  a 
beautiful  symbol  or  emblematic  representation  of  that 
guardianship,  as  exercised  through  the  instrumentality  of 
the  pious  mother  and  Christian  home. 


I. 

CHRISTIANITY    THE    GUARDIAN   OF   CHILDHOOD. 

Prior  to  the  advent  of  the  Son  of  God,  there  was  little 
concern  for  children,  beyond  the  Jewish  Church;  as  a 
class,  they  were  neglected,  and   often  abandoned  to  in- 


T  IJ  E     HOLY     FA  M  I  L  Y  .  59 

fluencG3  the  most  blighting  and  destructive.  Paganism 
was  cruel,  and  even  among  civilized  nations  there  was 
but  little  deference  paid  to  the  touching  and  imperative 
claims  of  childhood. 

But  with  the  coming  of  Christ,  a  new  era  dawned  on 
the  Home-institution.  When  the  Saviour  opened  his 
arms  and  welcomed  little  children,  with  a  look  of 
benignity  and  love,  he  performed  an  act  which  has 
hallowed  children  in  all  subsequent  time.  He  seemed  to 
say,  by  the  very  attitude  he  assumed,  as  well  as  by  the 
words  of  Avelcome  which  he  uttered,  —  "  It  is  a  part  of  my 
mission  to  help  these  little  ones  —  I  have  come  from 
heaven  to  be  the  child's  teacher  and  the  child's  Saviour." 

Ever  since,  Christianity  has  been  the  guardian  of  child- 
hood against  the  spirit  and  cruelty  of  the  world. 

We  find  beautiful  tokens  among  the  earliest  confessors 
of  Christianity,  of  their  care  for  the  souls  of  their  off- 
spring, commending  them  to  Him  who  had  opened  the 
gates  of  everlasting  life.  In  the  Roman  Catacombs,  the 
inscriptions  on  the  tombs  of  children  are  expressive  of  the 
tenderest  parental  feeling  and  Christian  hope.  "  Vir- 
ginius  remained  but  a  short  time  with  us."  "  Sweet 
Faustina,  may  you  live  in  God."  ''Laurence  to  his 
sweetest  son,  Severus,  borne  away  by  angels  on  the  seventh 
Ides  of  January."  How  different,  says  one,  the  spirit 
breathed  in  such  inscriptions,  from  that  inspired  by  the 
idolatry,  that  formed  a  god  of  the  war-spirit,  that  makes 


60  Tin:   HOLY   family. 

cliiMlioo;]  desolate  an;!  orplianod,  or  bows  doAvn    before 
Molocli  and  casts  cliildreii  into  tlic  fire  at  liis  foet. 

Even  in  v.luit  arc  called  the  dark  ages,  the  time  of 
monkish  austerity  and  priestly  sway,  we  see  glimpses  of 
tender  solicitude  for  childhood.  In  the  Gothic  Cathedral, 
that  embodiment  of  the  middle  ages,  the  Holy  Mother 
and  her  Divine  child  beam  upon  the  worshipper  from 
illuminated  missals  and  painted  windoAvs.  There  by  the 
altar  stands  the  baptismal  font;  and  the  child  of  the 
poorest  peasant  is  recognized  as  a  lamb  of  the  good 
shepherd,  and  received  into  his  fold.  What  would  child- 
hood have  been  in  the  dark  ages  without  the  church? 
What  other  power  could  have  stood  between  innocence 
and  its  tempter  and  destro^^er  ?  Who  would  have  with- 
stood Herod,  if  the  mother  heart  of  Christianity  had 
■withheld  its  guardianship  ? 

Christianity  is  still  the  guardian  of  childhood,  for 
Herod  still  lives.  His  spirit  is  still  the  spirit  of  the 
world  —  of  the  world's  passions  and  its  policy.  What 
multiform  evils  are  all  around  to  blight  the  innocence  and 
purity  of  the  young  !  What  perils  surround  their  path  ! 
What  serpents  are  ever  gliding  among  the  very  flowers  of 
their  spring  !  "  The  child  ever  needs  protection  ;  Herod 
ever  in  some  form  rages ;  Christianity,  like  a  mighty  ma- 
ternal heart,  needs  ever  to  keep  its  watch." 

Let  us  look  for  a  moment  at  the  relations  and  mission 
of  Christianity  to 


THE  HOLY  FAMILY.  61 

FRIENDLESS  AND  HOMELESS  CHILDREN. 

1.  Friendless  children  !  what  visions  of  gloom  and  sad- 
ness are  called  up  by  these  words !  What  multitudes  of 
these  little  ones  are  seen,  at  the  twilight  of  evening, 
mmgling  in  the  homeward  stream !  Some,  go  to  the  sanc- 
tuary of  loving  homes ;  some,  to  places  which  it  seems  a 
mockery  to  call  by  that  sweet  name  —  where  chill  penury 
and  want  brood  by  the  hearth,  with  gaunt  misery  and 
ghastly  death.  Others,  retire  to  places  that  may  be 
designated  as  moral  tombs,  where  huddle  the  demons 
of  drunkenness  and  debauchery;  where  God  is  but  a 
dark  cloud  of  muttering  thunder  in  the  soul;  where  child- 
hood is  baptized  in  infamy,  and  overhung  with  curses. 
Hundreds,  in  our  large  cities,  are  found,  in  their  early 
childhood,  so  helpless  and  confiding,  and  yet  with  no 
maternal  bosom  to  lean  upon  —  no  words  of  love,  like  the 
breath  of  spring,  to  develop  their  afiectional  nature  —  left 
to  the  whirl  of  evil  and  the  prowling  destroyer.  Such 
children  are  seen  in  our  midst,  left  to  the  action  of 
influences  that  cast  over  the  young  life  an  abiding  gloom. 
Children,  that  look  sad  and  melancholy,  with  the  cares 
of  age  and  the  forecast  of  evil  fixed  and  frozen  on  their 
juvenile  faces.  "  A  melancholy  child  !  what  an  anomaly 
among  the  harmonies  of  the  universe  !  something  as  incon- 
gruous as  a  bird  drooping  in  a  cage,  or  a  flower  in  a 
sepulchre.  » 

6 


62  T  II  i;     II  0  L  Y     F  A  M  T  T.  V  . 

2.  A  few  facts  will  serve  to  give  a  perceptible  reality  to 
the  gloomy  picture,  and  quicken  our  sympathy  for  poor 
and  parentlcss  children : 

A  gentleman  passing  one  day  through  the  streets  of 
Edinburgh,  saw  a  boy,  who  lived  by  selling  fire-wood, 
standing  with  a  heavy  load  upon  his  back,  looking  at  a 
number  of  boys  amusing  themselves  in  a  play-ground. 
"Sometimes,"  says  the  writer,  "he  laughed  aloud,  at 
other  times  he  looked  sad  and  sorrowful.  Stepping  up  to 
him,  I  said,  *  Well,  my  boy,  you  seem  to  enjoy  the  fun 
very  much ;   but  why  don't  you  lay  down  your  load  of 

sticks  ?  ' ^  I   wan't   thinking   about   the 

burden — I  wan't  thinking  about  the  sticks,  sir.'  ^And 
may  I  ask  what  you  were  thinking  about  ? '  '  Oh,  I  was 
just  thinking  about  what  the  good  missionary  said  the 
other  day.  You  know,  sir,  I  don't  go  to  church,  for  I 
have  no  clothes ;  but  one  of  the  missionaries  comes  every 
week  to  our  stair,  and  holds  a  meeting.  He  was  preach- 
ing to  us  last  week,  and  among  other  things  he  said  — 
"Although  there  are  rich  folks  and  poor  folks  in  this 
world,  yet  we  are  all  brothers."  Now,  sir,  just  look  at 
these  lads  —  every  one  of  them  has  fine  jackets,  fine  caps, 
with  warm  shoes  and  stockings ;  but  I  have  none.  So  I 
was  just  thinking  if  those  were  my  brothers,  it  doesn't 
look  like  it,  sir  —  it  doesn't  look  like  it.  See,  sir,  they 
are  all  flying  kites,  while  I  am  flying  in  rags ;  they  are 
running  about  at  kick-ball  and  cricket,  but  I  must  climb 


T  II  E     11  0  L  Y     F  A  M  I  L  Y  .  63 

the  long,  long  stairs,  mtli  a  heavy  load,  and  an  empty 
stomacli,  -whilst  my  back  is  like  to  break.     It  doesn't  look 
like  it,  sir  —  it  doesn't  look  like  it.'"     Or,  take  the  fol- 
lowing instance,  which  I  extract  from  the  Records  of  one 
of  the  Benevolent  Societies  of  our  own  city  :     " '  Can  you 
read  or  write  ? '   said  the  visitor  to  a  poor  boy.      Marty 
hung  his  head.      I  repeated   the  question  two  or  three 
times  before  he  answered,  and  the  tears  dropped  on  his 
hands,  as  he  said,  despairingly,  and  I  thought  defiantly — 
'  No,  sir,  I  can't  read,  nor  write  neither.     God  don't  want 
me  to  read,  sir.     Indeed,  so  it  looks  likely.     Didn't  He 
take  away  my  father  since  before  I  can  remember  him  ? 
And  haven't  I  been  working  all  the  time  to  fetch  in  some- 
thing to  eat,  and  for  the  fire,  and  for  clothes  ?     I  went 
out  to  pick  coal  when  I  could  take  a  basket  in  my  arms ; 
and  I  have  had  no  chance  for  school  since.'  "     Now  this, 
says  an  eloquent  writer,  is  fallacious  and  dangerous  rea- 
soning ;  nevertheless,  it  is  reasoning,  and  shows  that  the 
mind  of  the  poor  boy  is  not  inactive  as  to  the  problems 
of  life.     And  the  intellect  which  is  so  acute  in  theory, 
will  soon  drive  to  practice.     Stimulated  by  that  selfish 
instinct   which,    as    I   have   shown,   will   under   pressure 
absorb  every  other  consideration,  he  speedily  commences 
the  career  of  crime. 

A  gentleman  in  one  of  our  cities,  meeting  a  little  boy, 
sad,  tattered,  and  forlorn,  with  his  fingers  nervously 
clutching  his  old  rags,  said  to  him  —  "Well,  my  little 
fellow,  whose   child   are  you?"      He   dropped  his  head 


64  T  II  E     II  0  L  Y     F  A  M  I  L  Y 

for  a  moment,  and  then  looking  up,  -with  tears,  said  — 
"Please,  sir,  I  ain't  nobody's  child."  0  what  a  sight, 
in  such  a  world  as  this —  "nobody's  child  !  " 

We  must  think  of  these  friendless  children.      Think  of 

them,  as    abused,  neglected,  driven  into  sin  —  often,  by 

the  very  hands  that  should  lead  them  to  virtue  and    to 

heaven.     Think  of  these  orphan  children  —  or  worse  than 

orphaned   by  living  parents,  bestialized  by  drunkenness 

and  other  lusts,  and  lost  to  all  the  instincts  of  natural 

affection.     Think  of  these  little  ones,  cradled  in  reeking 

filth,  drinking  in  blasphemy  and  obscenity  under  a  canopy 

of  curses,  that  blights  all  that  is  beautiful  and  hides  the 

very  face  of  God  !     And  then,  that  the  picture  may  touch 

your  heart  with  a  personal  interest,  imagine,  fond  father, 

that  your  boy  were  thus  friendless,   and   abandoned  to 

every  snare  of  evil,  and  damning  power  of  sin,  with  none 

to  warn  or  counsel,  with  no  home  to  shelter  him  from  the 

cruelty    of    an    avenging    Herod!     And,    ye    mothers, 

imagine  that  your  daughter,  whom  the  very  winds  must 

salute  with  courtesy,  were   left  without  a  mother's   love 

and  care,  to  be  ensnared  by  the  spoiler,  and  afterwards  to 

walk   through  the  streets  at  night,  a  painted  desolation 

and  a  reeling  shame  !     Your  heart  trembles  and  thrills  at 

the  bare  thought  or  possibility  of  such  a  destiny  for  your 

child. 

3.  And  yet  we  ask,  are  not  these  friendless  children 
possessed  of  one  common  humanity  —  intrinsically  of  as 
costly  material,  and  as  dear  to  heaven,  as  the  little  ones 


T  II  E     II  0  L  Y    F  A  M  I  L  Y .  65 

that  gladden  jour  hearts  and  brighten  your  homes  ?  0 
yes.  Take  the  lowest  phase  of  humanity  among  these 
out-cast  and  trampled  little  ones  —  take  that  ignorant, 
squalid,  and  tattered  child,  and  wash  its  face  and  look 
into  its  eye,  and  you  see  there  still  the  image  of  God  —  a 
crown-jewel,  in  its  filthy  and  battered  casket,  a  precious 
soul,  around  which  angels  love  to  linger,  and  for  which 
Jesus  died. 

4.  There  is  another  phase  of  childhood  among  the  poor 
and  neglected  that  is  peculiarly  touching  in  its  appeals  to 
our  sympathy.  It  is  where  there  are  children,  not  merely 
in  their  orphanage,  or  in  their  touching  sadness,  exposed 
to  temptation,  want,  beggary,  and  crime ;  but  nobly 
struggling  against  the  tide  of  evil — struggling  against 
want,  enduring  and  working  for  some  one  that  is  loved. 
The  city  missionary  recounts  incidents,  from  which  might 
be  written  a  Martyrology,  with  blood  and  tears,  over 
many  a  gloomy  threshold,  on  the  w*alls  of  many  a  desolate 
room ;  a  fearful  record  of  human  suffering  —  a  sweet 
memorial  of  youthful  virtue  —  of  children^  who  are  living 
martyrs.  We  give  but  one  instance,  from  a  book,  which 
contains  numerous  memorials  of  this  kind. 

It  is  of  a  beggar -girl  who  "lives,"  as  the  narrative 
goes  on  to  say,  ''in  a  rear  building  where  full  daylight 
never  shines  —  in  a  cellar -room  where  pure  dry  air  is 
never  breathed.  A  quick  gentle  girl  of  twelve  years,  she 
speaks  to  the  visitor  as  he  enters  — '  Mother  does  not  see 
you,  sir,  because  she's  blind.'  The  mother  was  an  old 
6* 


68  T  II  E    II  0  L  Y    F  A  I\I  I  L  Y  . 

woman  of  sixty-five  or  seventy  years,  -with  six  or  seven 
others  seated  around.  '  But  you  told  me  you  and  your 
mother  and  little  sister  lived  by  yourselves.'  'Yes,  sir 
—  here  it  is;'  "  and  at  the  end  of  the  passage  the  visitor 
discovers  a  narrow  place,  about  five  feet  by  three.  The 
bed  was  rolled  up  in  one  corner,  and  nearly  filled  the 
room.  '' '  But  where  is  your  stove  ?'  '  We  have  none, 
sir.  The  people  in  the  next  room  are  very  kind  to  mother, 
and  let  her  come  in  there  to  warm  —  because,  you  know, 
I  get  half  the  coal.'  *  But  where  do  you  cook  your  food  V 
'  We  never  cook  any,  sir  ;  it  is  already  cooked.  I  go 
early  in  the  morning  to  get  coal  and  chips  for  the  fire, 
and  I  must  have  two  baskets  of  coal  and  wood  to  kindle 
with  by  noon.  That's  mother's  half.  Then  when  the 
people  have  eaten  dinner,  I  go  round  to  get  the  bits  they 
leave.  I  can  get  two  baskets  of  coal  every  day  now;  but 
when  it  gets  cold,  and  we  must  have  a  great  deal,  it  is 
hard  for  me  to  find  any  —  there's  so  many  poor  chaps  to 
pick  it.  Sometimes  the  ladies  speak  cross  to  me,  and  shut 
the  door  hard  at  me,  and  sometimes  the  gentlemen  slap 
me  in  the  face,  and  kick  my  basket,  and  then  I  come 
home,  and  mother  says  not  to  cry,  for  may  be  I  '11  do 
better  to-morrow.  Sometimes  I  get  my  basket  almost 
full,  and  then  put  it  by  for  to-morrow ;  and  then,  if  next 
day  we  have  enough,  I  take  this  to  a  poor  woman  next 
door.  Sometimes  I  get  only  a  few  bits  in  my  basket  for 
all  day,  and  may  be  the   next  day.     And  then  I  fast, 


T  II  E    II  0  L  Y    F  A  M  I  L  Y  .  67 

because,  you  know,  mother  is  sick  and  weakly,  and  can't 
be  able  to  fast  like  me.'  " 

This  is  one  of  the  "short  and  simple  annals  of  the 
poor."  But  those  of  whom  Gray  spoke  rest  peacefully 
in  the  "country  churchyard;"  their  spirits  are  in  heaven, 
and  their  history  is  embalmed  in  his  own  immortal  Elegy. 
But  these  records  are  of  those  who  yet  live  and  suffer  — 
"Martyrs  without  the  palm." 

And  could  I  summon  them  before  you,  and  would  the 
Master  but  enter  as  when  upon  earth,  surely  he  would 
look  upon  them  in  tender  pity ;  would  bless  them ;  would 
take  in  his  arms  those  whom  the  world  has  cast  aside  and 
overlooked.  Nay,  perhaps  he  would  transfigure  their 
actuality  into  their  possibility,  and  we  might  see  "the 
angels  in  their  faces,"  pleading  with  us  before  the  Father's 
throne !  * 

5.  Now,  Christianity  is  the 

FOSTER-MOTnER 

of  these  living,  juvenile  martyrs,  and  these  neglected, 
vagrant  and  friendless  little  ones.  Her  great  maternal 
heart,  yearns  for  these  homeless  children,  and  her  hands 
are  outstretched,  through  varied  instrumentalities,  to 
gather  up  these  jewels  from  the  very  rubbish  and  moral 
wastes  of  social  degradation.  To  gather  them,  not  as 
soiled  and  trampled  flowers,  but  flowers  with  something  of 
Eden's  tints  and  beauty  still  about  them,  and  bring  them 
*  Chapin  —  Humanity  in  the  City. 


68  T  II  i:  H  0  L  Y  r  a  m  i  i,  v  . 

under  the  light  of  the  sun  of  righteousness  and  the  dews 
of  heavenly  grace,  that  they  may  revive  and  freshen 
with  something  of  their  lost  loveliness ;  to  unfold  in  the 
garden  of  the  Lord  on  earth,  and  bloom  in  the  Paradise 
of  God  above,  forever. 

"What  a  constellation  of  noble,  philanthropic  institutions 
have  risen  upon  the  dark  places  of  the  neglected  and 
suffering  poor !  And  among  these  institutions,  stand 
pre-eminently  such  as  have  special  reference  to  orphan 
and  homeless  childhood.  We  point,  ^yith  a  feeling  of 
spiritual  exultation,  to  these  noble  monuments  of  Chris- 
tianity,, in  her  maternal  care  and  solicitude,  to  seek  out 
neglected  children,  and  open  to  them  the  blessings  of 
home  and  education,  industry  and  religion. 

Among  these  institutions,  we  would  name,  *'  The  Mission 
at  the  Five  Points,"  "The  Children's  Aid  Society,"  "The 
Asylum  for  Friendless  Boys,"  "  The  Homo  for  Friendless 
Children  ;"  institutions  originated  and  sustained  by  Chris- 
tian benevolence ;  institutions  which  show  the  practical 
operation  of  Christianity  —  first  of  all  in  the  hearts  of 
Christians,  and  then  flowing  out  in  action.  Institutions, 
whose  practical  working  is  after  the  method  of  Jesus, 
which  consisted  not  of  mere  teaching,  but  of  help — which 
touched  not  only  the  issues  of  the  sin-sick  soul,  but  the 
wants  and  sufferings  of  the  body. 

"  How  striking  is  the  fact,  that  the  freshest  and  noblest 
charities  of  this  nineteenth  century,  are  only  developments 


T  II  E    II  0  L  Y    F  A  M  I  L  Y  .  G9 

of  the  manner  in  which  the  Redeemer  soothed  the  sorrows 
and  vanquished  the  evils  of  the  world !" 

We  point  with  peculiar  pleasure  in  this  connection,  to 
''The  Orphans  Farm  School,'"  and  "TAe  Orphan  s  Home,'' 
of  the  Lutheran  Church,  as  special  illustrations  of  the 
Divine  method  of  benevolence  *  towards  friendless  chil- 
dren. I  refer  to  the  method,  which,  while  it  seeks  pre- 
eminently the  spiritual  good,  does  not  overlook  the  wants 
of  -the  body  —  which  aiming  supremely  at  results  for 
eternity,  does  not  exclude  the  temporal.  These  institu- 
tions aim  at  the  highest  good  of  the  orphan  and  neglected 
children,  for  the  present  and  the  future.  '^  A  system  of 
help  which  gives  something  more  than  spiritual  instruction 
on  the  one  hand,  something  more  than  mere  food  and 
clothing  on  the  other ;  which  combines  measures  of  relief 
and  nourishment  for  the  demands  of  our  whole  nature  in 
the  form  of  the  ignorant  and  suffering  child ;  and  which, 
better  than  all,  lifts  him  out  of  the  humiliating  condition 
of  a  mere  pauper  or  dependent,  and  sets  him  in  a  channel 
of  manly  exertion,  self-development,  and  self-support ; 
which  not  only  does  the  negative  work  of  removing  a  mass 
of  evil  from  society,  but  makes  for  it  the  positive  contri- 
bution of  an  improved  and  educated  humanity." 

It  is  in  this  way,  Christianity  exercises  her  fostering 

*  These  institutions  were  conceived  and  established  by  the  Rev. 
W.  A.  Passavant,  of  Pittsburg.  The  Orphans'  Farm  School  is 
located  in  the  vicinity  of  Pittsburg.  The  Orphan's  Home  is  in  that 
city.  Both  are  in  successful  operation,  under  the  superintendence 
of  the  benevolent  and  indefatiii-able  founder. 


70  T  11  i:     II  0  L  Y    KAMI  L  Y. 

care  and  guardianship  over  friendless  children.  These 
institutions  arc  the  outstretched  arms  of  Christianity,  to 
gather  the  parentlcss  and  neglected  children  to  her  bosom, 
to  be  nurtured  there,  and  sheltered  from  the  persecuting 
sword  of  Herod.  And  as  such,  they  have  a  practical 
claim  upon  the  sympathy  and  co-operation  of  every 
Christian  and  philanthropist.  And  we  may  all,  in  some 
"way,  assist  in  this  good  work,  either  by  personal  labors 
or  contributions  of  our  goods  and  money.  We  do  not 
pretend  to  designate  the  specific  form  of  our  co-operation. 
Each  knows  what  he  can  best  do  —  what  is  his  special, 
Providential  call  in  the  matter ;  but  let  him  be  assured 
that  he  has  a  call ;  and  that  this  spectacle  of  orphan, 
suffering,  imperilled  childhood,  is  something,  not  merely 
to  touch  our  sympathies,  but  to  engage  our  prompt, 
personal,  and  self-denying  endeavours.  It  is  not  "with 
tears  and  sympathy  alone,  that  we  are  to  answer  tho 
poor  woman's  prayer  —  a  prayer  that  echoes  through  so 
many  anxious  and  sorrowing  hearts  —  "May  the  Lord 
spare  my  Archy  from  the  bad  boys,  and  from  taking  to 
the  ways  of  his  father." 

0  if  these  neglected  children  could  present  themselves 
before  us,  how  would  they  plead  for  help !  The  very  hand 
that  has  smitten  them  consecrates  them  to  Christian 
charity.  Think  of  these  children,  in  their  helplessness, 
sad  and  neglected,  exposed  to  the  destroyer !  Think  of 
your  own  early  days,  with  all  their  tender  associations 
of  home,   brothers,   sisters,   fathers,   and  more  than  all. 


T  II  E     II  0  L  Y    F  A  M  I  L  Y  .  71 

of  her  who  stood  to  jou  in  Marj's  [jlacc,  and  blessed  you 
with  a  Christian  mother's  love  !  And  as  your  heart  warms 
with  these  sacred  memories,  help  to  give  to  these  outcast 
little  ones  a  home,  and  what  may  be  to  them  the  best  sub- 
stitute for  a  mother's  care  and  nurture.  Think  of  Him 
who  put  his  hands  upon  little  children,  and  blessed  them, 
and  who  said  —  ''Whoso  shall  receive  one  such  little 
child  in  my  name,  receiveth  me.  And  whosoever  shall 
give  to  drink  unto  one  of  these  little  ones  a  cup  of  cold 
water  only  in  the  name  of  a  disciple,  verily  I  say  unto 
you,  he  shall  in  no  wise  lose  his  reward." 

"Though  I  depart,  the  poor  remain  ; 
Kindness  to  them,  is  love  tu  me  ! " 

The  second  phase  of  the  picture  illustrates  the  special 
benignity  of  the  gospel  to  childhood,  as  exhibited  in  the 
sacred  relation  of  the  mother  to  the  child. 


II. 

MARY;    OR,    THE    TRUE    IDEAL    OF    A    CHRISTIAN 
]M  0  T  H  E  R . 

"  And  when  they  were  come  into  the  house,  they  saw  the  young 
child,  with  Mary,  his  mother." 

"  His  throne,  thy  bosom  blest, 
0  Mother  undefiled ; 
That  throne,  if  aught  beneath  the  skies, 
Beseems  the  sinless  child."  —  Keble. 

There  is  no  scene  in  sacred  history  invested  with  such 
reliorious  interest  as  the  one  before  us.     It  stands^pre- 


1'2  TTIK     HOLY     FAMILY. 

cniiiKnt  in  tlic  iiieniory  and  afTections  of  the  world,  sur- 
rounded Avitli  nn  air  of  sanctity  and  a  lialo  of  spiritual 
beauty,  touching  our  hearts  with  the  deepest  religious 
emotions,  and  associating  itself  with  our  purest  thoughts 
of  heaven. 

The  extravagant  and  blasphemous  homage  paid  to  IMary 
by  Romanists,  has,  unconsciously,  repelled  the  Protestant 
mind  from  that  veneration  due  to  Mary,  alike  for  her  per- 
sonal piety  and  loveliness  and  her  honored  position  as  the 

Mother  of  Jesus There  is  much  beauty  in  the 

Catholic  conception  of  the  blessed  Virgin.  Some  of  the 
sweetest  effusions  of  their  devotional  poetry  are  chanted 
in  her  praise,  whilst  art  has  been  consecrated  to  set  forth 
the  Holy  Mother  in  celestial  beauty  and  angelic  loveliness. 
To  the  primitive  disciples,  it  was  natural  the  very  name 
of  Mary  should  mingle  with  their  holiest  memories  of 
earth,  and  inspire  them  with  a  reverence  for  a  moral 
loveliness  now  in  heaven.  This  sentiment,  sobered  and 
modified  by  our  Protestant  faith,  still  lingers  among  us 
w^ith  our  religion  and  our  homes. 

Whilst  we  repudiate  the  priestly  dogma,  which  inspheres 
Mary  in  heaven  above  all  saints  and  angels,  we  are  not 
insensible  to  the  beautiful  feeling  and  sentiment  involved 
in  the  dogma.  As  we  look  upon  our  homes,  adorned  with 
the  graces  of  w^oman,  and  beautified  with  the  innocence 
of  childhood,  we  may  exclaim,  "  Hail,  Mary ! "  in  the 
Gospel  sense.  We  can  say,  "Blessed  art  thou  among 
women,"  —  among  them,  not  above  them;  among  them,  to 


T  H  E     11  0  L  Y     F  A  M  I  L  Y  .  73 

illustrate  the  true  mission  of  woman ;  among  tliem,  as  the 
representative  of  our  highest  ideal  of  the  Christian 
Mother. 

There  is  but  occasional  reference  in  the  gospel  history 
to  Mary's  life  and  work.  From  her  vigil  beside  the 
manger  to  her  tearful  agony  before  the  cross,  we  have 
only  a  few  glimpses  of  the  mother,  in  her  deep  devotion 
and  tenderness,  mingled  with  Christian  faith  and  heroic 
fortitude,  watching,  with  alternations  of  hope  and  fear, 
the  gradual  development  of  that  mysterious  life,  whose 
infant  weakness  was  intrusted  to  her  care. 

We  have  in  one  or  two  historical  incidents,  a  vivid  pic- 
ture of  this  Christian  mother. 

1.  Her  faith  in  God.  When  Gabriel  accosted  her  with, 
*'  Hail,  thou  art  highly  favored,  the  Lord  is  with  thee ; 
blessed  art  thou  among  women,"  she  is  calm  and  self- 
possessed,  and  though  troubled,  makes  no  response,  but 
"casts  in  her  mind"  the  import  of  this  startling  saluta- 
tion. "  This  single  ray  of  historic  light  daguerreotypes 
her  character  before  us,  with  imperishable  distinctness; 
what  habits  of  patient  meditation  and  inward  self-com- 
munion does  this  perfect  self-control  reveal  ?  " 

When  the  angel  unfolded  the  import  of  the  salutation, 
that  she  should  bring  forth  a  son,  and  should  call  his  name 
Jesus,  &c.,  we  see  her  faith. 

It  was  something,  in  all  its  details  of  unprecedented 
strangeness.  It  involved  contingencies  and  implications, 
from  which  her  maidenly  delicacy  might  have  recoiled. 
7 


74  T  II  K     HOLY     FAMILY. 

It  involyed  a  succession  of  miracles  ;  but  as  it  was  all 
referred  by  the  angel  to  the  veracity  and  almiglitiness 
of  God,  her  confiding  heart  bowed  in  humble  acquiescence, 
with  the  simple  response,  "  Behold  the  handmaid  of  the 
Lord ;  be  it  unto  mc  according  to  thy  word."  What 
childlike  simplicity  and  faith !  All  seeming  difficulties, 
all  conceived  contradictions  to  facts  and  antecedents, 
vanish  at  a  simple  reference  to  the  purposes  of  God,  with 
whom  nothing  shall  be  impossible.  It  was  this  faith  in 
God  that  gave  such  calm  equanimity,  such  depth  of  cha- 
racter to  Mary.  It  was  this  living  faith  in  the  providence 
and  covenant  of  God  that  gave  such  womanly  dignity  and 
vigor,  yet  delicacy  of  sentiment,  to  her  character.  Mary, 
says  one,  is  a  beautiful  example  of  the  piety  which  breathed 
and  burned  in  the  ancient  Hebrew  Church,  when  the  faith 
of  God's  people  fed  upon  the  promise  of  a  coming  Messiah. 
There  is  scarcely,  in  the  whole  range  of  the  Bible,  a 
more  beautiful  instance  of  faith,  humility,  and  meekness. 
Take  into  account  the  several  circumstances  to  which  we 
have  hastily  adverted,  and  there  are  not  in  the  Bible  words 
more  expressive  of  thorough  acquiescence,  of  unfeigned 
submission,  and  of  unqualified  confidence.  Ask  me  to 
point  out  a  saint,  displaying  extraordinary  faith,  and  that 
too  under  circumstances  the  most  adapted  to  perplex  ;  and 
considering  the  sex,  tho  age,  the  condition  —  I  would  rather 
direct  you  to  Mary  expecting  the  son  Jesus,  than  to  Abra- 
ham offering  up  his  son  Isaac.  There  was  far  less  of 
apparent  effort  of  the  one  than  of  the  other  —  there  is 


T  II  E    11  0  L  Y    F  A  M  I  L  Y .  75 

not  ill  the  Virgin  the  courage  and  the  fortitude  which  you 
mark  in  the  Patriarch  —  nevertheless,  when  you  come  to 
examine  all  the  circumstances  of  the  two — what  the  two 
were  —  what  they  had  to  believe  —  what  they  had  to 
endure  —  we  think  you  will  hardly  question  the  accuracy 
of  the  decision  that  in  the  secresy  of  the  Virgin's  chamber 
there  was  a  yet  more  signal  moral  triumph,  than  on  the 
summit  of  Moriah,  when  the  father's  hand  was  lifted  up 
to  slay  the  child  of  promise.* 

2.  In  her  interview  with  Elizabeth,  in  her  mountain 
home,  we  have  a  beautiful  development  of  her  deep 
religious  emotions  and  enthusiasm.  That  sweet  canticle, 
that  joyous  outgushing  of  her  heart,  reveals  the  deep 
springs  of  feeling  and  piety  that  welled  up  in  her  soul. 
What  enthusiasm  of  grateful  exultation,  when  greeted  by 
her  cousin  Elizabeth : 

"My  soul  doth  magnify  the  Lord, 
And  my  spirit  doth  rejoice  in  God,  my  Saviour, 
For  he  hath  regarded  the  low  estate  of  his  handmaiden: 
For  behold  !  from  henceforth  all  generations  shall  call  me  blessed.'' 

"Where,"  says  an  eloquent  writer,  "among  those 
favored  with  education  or  gifted  with  genius,  shall  we 
find  a  better  interpreter  of  Avomanhood,  in  its  mission 
from  God,  than  that  trusting  Hebrew  in  her  filial  faith 
and  unwavering  devotion  ?  .  .  .  .  Her  soul  attuned  to 
devotion  by  the  Psalms  of  her  great  ancestor,  David,  and 

*  Melville. 


76  T  II  E    II  0  L  Y    F  A  M  I  L  Y . 

inflamed  witli  hope  by  the  visions  of  prophets,  and  schooled 
to  patient  charity  by  the  choicest  examples  of  the  mothers 
in  Israel,  she  stands  at  the  centre  of  Providential  history, 
receiving  from  the  former  ages  their  mantle  of  honor,  and 
transmitting  it  to  the  new  ages  enriched  with  a  divine 
grace  destined  to  brighten  with  time." 

3.  Another  feature  in  Mary,  worthy  of  special  notice, 
"was  her  intense  maternal  feelings,  her  exquisite  tenderness 
and  affection  as  a  mother — the  mother  of  Jesus.  This 
feeling,  in  some  degree,  is  an  irrepressible  instinct  of 
nature.  But  in  Mary,  it  was  so  intensified  and  directed 
by  religious  faith,  that  it  becomes  something  sacred  and 
heavenly,  and  she  stands  before  us  in  sacred  history  as 
the  impersonation  of  our  highest  ideal  of  a  Christian 
mother.  That  gifted  genius,  Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning, 
thus  pictures  Mary's  feelings,  as  she  watches  beside  her 
sleeping  child : 

"  Sleep,  sleep,  mine  Holy  One. 
•?«•  -x-  ^  *  *  *  * 

I  am  not  proud  —  meek  angels,  put  yc  on 
New  meekness,  to  hear  such  utterance  rest 
On  mortal  lips,  'I  am  not  proud'  —  not  proud! 
Albeit  in  mj  flesh  God  sent  his  Son, 
Albeit  over  Ilim  my  head  is  bowed, 
As  others  bow  before  Ilira,  still  my  heart 
Bows  lower  than  their  knees!     As  centuries 
That  roll,  in  visions,  your  futurities 

My  grave  athwart ! 
Whose  mumurs  seem  to  reach  me  while  I  keep 

Watch  o'er  this  sleep ! 


TIIEHOLYFAMILY.  7T 

Say  of  me  as  the  Heavenly  said,  '  Thou  art 

The  blessedest  of  women !'  blessedest, 

Not  holiest,  not  noblest ;  no  high  name, 

Whose  height  misplaced  may  pierce  me  like  a  shame, 

When  I  sit  meek  in  heaven  ! 

For  me,  for  me  — 
I  often  wandered  forth,  more  child  than  maiden, 
Among  the  lonely  hills  of  Galilee, 
Whose  summits  looked  heaven-laden  ! 
Listening  to  silentness,  that  seemed  to  be 
God's  voice  —  so  soft,  yet  strong  —  so  fain  to  press 
Upon  my  heart,  as  Heaven  did  on  the  height, 
And  waken  up  its  shadows  by  a  light, 
And  show  its  vileness  by  a  holiness  ; 
Then  I  knelt  down,  as  silent  as  the  night, 

Too  self-renounced  for  fears ; 
Raising  my  small  face  to  the  boundless  blue. 
Whose  stars  did  mix  and  tremble  in  my  tears ! 
God  heard  them  falling  often  —  with  his  dew." 

As  illustrations  of  her  deep  maternal  feelings  and 
solicitude,  sec  Marj  beside  Joseph,  fleeing  from  the  bloody 
svford  of  Herod,  through  the  desert  sands,  trembling, 
with  her  precious  treasure  folded  to  her  bosom,  bearing  it 
away  to  Egypt,  from  the  impending  storm  —  see  her,  as 
she  finds  her  child  in  the  temple,  among  the  doctors,  after 
days  of  anxious  search  and  painful  suspense.  Her  deep 
feelings  of  solicitude  gush  forth  in  the  gentle  remon- 
strance — "  Son,  why  hast  thou  thus  dealt  with  us  ? 
Behold  thy  father  and  I  have  sought  thee  sorrowing?" 

See  her  again  before  the  cross  of  her  son.  "The 
sword,"  which  Simeon  predicted,  "pierces  through  her 
soul." 

7* 


78  T  U  E    II  0  L  Y    F  A  M  I  L  Y . 

A  Grecian  artist,  who  sought  to  represent  the  grief  of 
Agamemnon  at  the  death  of  his  daughter,  Iphigenia, 
gained  the  praises  of  all  antiquity,  by  simply  drawing  a 
veil  over  the  face  of  the  agonized  parent.  Thus  has 
sacred  history  veiled  the  grief  of  Mary  at  the  cross.  Let 
no  sacrilegious  hand  attempt  to  lift  that  veil  from  the 
sorrowing  mother.  That  mother  bowed  before  the  cross 
with  a  crushing  sorrow,  and  yet,  with  a  mother's  love  and 
bereavement,  were  doubtless  mingled  the  deep  devotion 
of  the  Christian,  who  beholds  in  the  meek  sufferer,  her 
Saviour  and  Lord,  as  well  as  her  son. 

The  following  eloquent  passage  from  an  English  writer 
expresses,  as  we  conceive,  the  true  moral  attitude  of  Mary, 
in  her  claims  to  the  affectionate  veneration  of  the  Christian 
world. 

"  A  Papist  may  offer  extravagant  and  blasphemous 
homage  to  the  Virgin — we  will  not  join  in  such — we  would 
as  soon  render  it  to  Moses,  to  Abraham,  and  Paul,  or  to 
any  of  the  worthies  who  signalized  their  faith,  and  be- 
queathed such  a  rich  legacy  to  the  church.  The  Roman 
Catholics  hold,  that  Mary  was  free  from  all  sin,  thus 
making  her  own  birth  as  mysterious  as  that  of  her  Son, — 
whereas  we  hold,  that  in  nothing  was  Mary  distinguished 
from  other  women,  but  in  superior  sanctity  and  stronger 
faith.  But  if  we  cannot  go  with  the  Papist,  we  can  yet 
honour  the  Virgin ;  we  can  single  her  out  of  a  throng  of 
those,  whose  history  might  put  to  shame  our  deteriorated 
piety,  and  hold  her  up  as  worthy  of  a  chief  place  in  our 


TUE    HOLY    FAMILY.  79 

esteem.  Beautiful  meekness  and  lively  faith  command 
the  admiration  of  the  disciples  of  Christ.  It  might  have 
been  expected  that  the  individual  selected  for  the  rare 
honor  of  giving  birth  to  the  Messiah  would  exhibit  all 
those  graces  which  are  of  chief  worth.  Such  expectation 
is  abundantly  answered,  by  the  account,  brief  as  it  is,  of 
the  annunciation  of , the  Virgin.  There  is  no  record  of 
Scripture  from  which  we  may  gather  fuller  indications  of 
the  character  of  all  which  is  most  noble  in  intrepidity, 
blended  with  all  that  is  most  graceful  in  humility;  in 
which  the  firmness  of  the  martyr  is  combined  with  the 
timidity  of  the  recluse ;  the  boldness  which  can  brave  the 
frowns  of  the  world,  with  the  sensitiveness  which  can 
shun  a  smile  —  the  faith  that  counts  nothing  impossible 
with  God,  with  the  gentleness  which  cannot  meet  the 
slightest  difficulty,  except  it  has  strength  imparted."  * 

It  is  in  this  attitude  we  would  view  Mary  —  not  as  an 
object  of  idolatrous  homage,  but  as  a  saint  of  pre-eminent 
moral  beauty,  and  specially  as  the  mother  of  Jesus.  And 
it  is  in  these  historic  glimpses  of  Mary  —  her  childlike 
trust  in  God,  her  serene  and  heavenly  piety,  flowing  from 
habits  of  self-communion  and  spiritual  introspection,  com- 
bined with  a  pure  and  sanctified  maternal  feeling ,  watching 
with  holy  devotion  the  Christ-child  —  it  is  in  these  poten- 
tial, yet  beautiful  elements  of  religious  character,  that  we 
present  Mary,  as  the  true  ideal  of  a  Christian  mother. 

In  humble  imitation  of  Mary,  the  light  of  her  home, 

^  Melville. 


80  THE   HOLY   family. 

the  guardian  of  her  Holy  Child,  is  opened  up  the  noblest 
sphere  of  'woman.  Here,  by  an  influence  genial,  but 
mighty,  may  the  mothers  of  Israel  act  upon  the  social 
problems  of  our  times,  and  execute,  by  all  gentle  and 
confiding  graces,  and  spiritual  loveliness,  their  holy 
mission  to  the  church  and  the  world. 

Let  us  linger  for  a  moment  upon  this  most  sacred  and 
touching  relation  of  the  household  — 


THE   MOTHER   AND    THE    CHILD. 

There  are  few  hearts  so  incrusted  by  wordliness  or  in- 
durated by  sin,  as  to  feel  no  gentle  thrill  responsive  to 
these  words,  so  dear  to  memory,  so  bright  to  hope. 

Mother !  the  sweetest  name  to  memory  —  symbol  of  the 
Divine  tenderness ;  inspiring  us  with  a  love  that  we  never 
blush  to  confess,  and  a  veneration  deep  and  permanent 
as  life.  How  the  nameless  tokens  of  that  earliest  love 
weave  themselves  through  all  the  brightness,  through  all 
the  darkness,  of  our  after  life  !  Is  there  anything  earthly 
so  potential  in  its  moulding  and  formative  power  upon  the 
unfolding  child,  as  a  sanctified  mother's  love  ?  Thousands 
who  have  been  strong  in  trials  and  temptations,  and  pure 
amidst  the  seductions  of  sin,  can  trace  back  the  sacred 
virtue  of  that  hour,  to  some  sweet  memory  of  childhood, 
some  calm  moment,  when  they  knelt  beside  a  mother,  and 
from  gentle  looks  of  love  and  simple  words  of  prayer,' 
they  first  learned  piety  at  home. 


THEHOLYEAMILY.  81 

And  the  other  word  child  ! — childhood  and  children  !  Is 
there  a  parent  who  has  not  in  some  way  felt  the  power  of 
these  words,  touching  "the  finer  issues"  of  his  being? 
Have  not  many  of  us  felt  our  first  great  sorrow,  and  the 
breaking  up  of  the  spiritual  deep  within  us  by  the  couch 
of  a  dying  child !  Clasping  the  little  cold  hand,  we  have 
understood  as  never  before  the  reality  of  death,  and 
through  the  gloom  that  gathered  over  the  infant  cradle, 
caught  sudden  glimpses  of  the  heavenly  home.  Surely  in 
some  way  we  have  all  received  a  benediction  from  these 
little  ones. 

The  general  relations  of  the  child  to  the  household 
have  been  considered  in  the  preceding  chapter :  we  desire 
now  to  direct  attention  to  the  more  special  and  influential 
relation  of  the  mother  to  the  child. 


THE   MATERNAL   RELATION. 

This  topic  has  been  discussed  so  often  and  so  thoroughly, 
that  it  has  been  well-nigh  exhausted ;  and  there  is  little 
left,  either  of  novelty  or  importance,  to  justify  more  than 
a  brief  allusion  to  the  practical  suggestions  of  the  subject. 

1.  The  importance  of  this  relation  is  at  once  obvious, 
from  the  fact,  that  the  mother  presides  at  the  fountain  of 
being,  and  gives  direction  to  those  first  ideas,  first 
emotions,  and  first  unfolding  of  the  faculties,  which  in 
their  full  development,  are  sufficient  to  bless  or  curse  a 
world.     It  is  for  her,  with  her  quick  maternal  intuitions. 


82  T  II  E     11  0  L  Y     F  A  M  I  L  Y  . 

to  detect  the  ideal  human  being  that  is  enfolded  in  tho 
infant,  and  then  to  bring  it  out,  and  finally  to  invest  it 
■with  positive  life. 

It  is  according  to  the  order  of  nature,  that  the  power 
to  love  should  be  developed  before  the  power  to  think. 
All  things  with  us  begin  with  a  feeling  —  which  gradually 
enlarges  to  an  idea  —  and  then  takes  the  form  of  action. 
And  hence  the  early  awakening  of  the  affections  is  more 
important  than  mental  training. 

It  is  a  sad  thing  to  want  in  childhood,  maternal  endear- 
ments and  caresses.  And  it  has  been  justly  remarked, 
that  the  cheeks  which  affection  does  not  touch,  which  no 
mother  kisses,  have  always  a  sad  look  that  nothing  can 
conceal.  It  is  more  fatal  to  neglect  the  heart  than  the 
head. 

Now  the  mother  wakens  earliest  in  the  child  the  senti- 
ment of  love.  Her  bosom  is  its  first  paradise.  Her  embrace 
first  unlocks  the  heart  and  opens  its  mysterious  depths. 
To  her  is  given  its  first  smile.  Her  tones  lull  it  to  repose, 
and  mingle  with  its  dreams — with  its  being.  The  mother's 
love  with  its  gentle  and  countless  ministrations,  wakens  a 
responsive  love  in  the  child.  And  this  early  bond  of  love 
is  rarely  if  ever  broken.  In  the  wanderings  of  after-years 
—  wanderings,  it  may  be,  in  the  dark  ways  of  sin,  this  tie 
clings  around  his  spirit,  drawing  him  back  to  the  memories 
of  childhood.  Through  years  of  sin,  it  may  be,  he  sees 
that  face  of  "tenderness  and  love,  which  bent  over  the 


T  II  E     II  0  L  Y     F  A  M  I  L  Y .  83 

cradle  of   childhood,  and   thoughts  of   his    mother  touch 
the  hardened  prodigal  to  tears. 

There  is  a  touching  illustration  of  the  power  of  maternal 
love,  in  that  case  of  a  mother  and  her  idiot  child,  with 
which  many  of  you  may  be  familiar.  He  was  the  son  of 
a  poor  widoAV  in  the  north  of  England.  Utterly  helpless 
and  dependent,  "he  did  not  appear  to  be  alive  to  anger 
or  self-defence."  But  there  was  one  ray  left  to  guide 
him,  one  ligament  of  life  to  which  he  clung.  He  trusted 
in  the  love  of  his  mother.  This  was  his  consolation  and 
his  safeguard  —  to  this  he  looked  in  all  his  perplexity  and 
fear.  "  His  whole  occupation  as  he  sat  upon  the  ground, 
was  in  swinging  backwards  and  forwards,"  singing,  "in  a 
low,  pathetic  voice,"  an  unmeaning  strain.  Thus  day  by 
day  he  sung  his  strange  ditty,  and  clung  to  his  mother's 
presence,  living  on,  vacant  of  thought,  aimless  in  action. 
"  One  day,"  says  the  narrator,  "the  poor  woman  and  her 
idiot  boy  were  missed  from  the  market-place,  and  the 
charity  of  some  of  the  neighbors  induced  them  to  visit 
her  hovel.  They  found  her  dead  on  her  sorry  couch,  and 
the  boy  sitting  beside  her,  holding  her  hands,  swinging, 
and  singing  his  pitiful  lay  more  sorrowfully  than  ever  he 
had  done  before.  He  could  not  speak,  but  only  utter  a 
brutish  gabble.  Sometimes,  hoAvever,  he  looked  as  if  he 
comprehended  something  of  what  was  said."  But  he 
knew  that  he  had  met  with  a  loss;  for  "when  the  neigh- 
bors spoke  to  him,  he  looked  up  with  a  tear  in  his  eye, 
clasped  the  cold  hand  more  tenderly,  and  sung  in  a  softer 


84  T  II  K     HOLY     FAMILY. 

and  saiLlir  koj."  "'Poor  wretch  !'  said  they,  '  wliat  shall 
•\ve  do  with  him  ?'  At  that  moment  he  resumed  his  chant, 
and  lifting  two  handsful  of  dust  from  the  floor,  sprinkled 
it  over  his  head,  and  hroke  witli  a  wild,  clear,  heart- 
piercing  pathos,"  into  his  monotonous  and  mournful  song ! 

The  only  ray  of  light  that  lingered  in  that  dark  and 
chastic  mind,  was  a  mother's  love.  What  a  holy  trust  is 
that  of  mothers!  "What  a  kingly  power  their  love,  to 
touch  and  control  the  springs  of  the  new-born  mind ! 

2.  From  this  fact,  we  at  once  see,  how  absolute  the 
mother's  power  over  the  mind  and  heart  of  the  child.  She 
possesses  the  true  power  to  educate  her  child,  to  draw  out 
all  the  powers  of  his  nature  and  unfold  them  in  harmony. 
"She  penetrates  into  his  very  soul,  and  moves  it  to  her 
guidance  by  a  beautiful  law  of  attraction.  There  grows 
up  imperceptibly  beneath  her  moulding  sympathy  a 
spiritual  and  everlasting  fabric.  Her  precepts  do  not  lie 
in  his  mind  like  extraneous  facts ;  he  has  imbibed  them 
like  nutriment,  and  they  have  become  assimilated  with  his 
whole  character.  Thus  she  does  a  work  which  mere  in- 
tellectual or  didactic  instruction  cannot  accomplish,  be- 
cause she  has  the  assistance  of  the  affections — she  weaves 
the  warp  of  truth  into  the  woof  of  love." 

This  fact  is  in  itself  sufficient  to  show  the  potential 
influence  of  the  maternal  relation.  The  mother  watches 
by  the  earliest  springs  of  thought,  and  moulds  their 
channels,  and  wields  their  courses  —  she  wakens  earliest  in 
the  child  the   sentiment   of  love,  and  thus   moulds   the 


I 


THE    HOLY    FAMILY.  85 

heart  and  gives  direction  to  the  first  budding  of  tlie  im- 
mortal mind.  It  is  this  peculiarity  in  the  maternal  re- 
lation, that  invests  the  mother  with  a  power  and  respon- 
sibility which  transcend  all  human  estimate.  She  comes 
in  contact  with  the  infant  spirit,  when  most  plastic  and 
ductile,  before  its  nebulous  thoughts  and  opening  affections 
and  veering  will,  have  crystallized  into  character;  and, 
hence  her  influence  is  inextricably  interwoven  with  its 
destiny.  In  this  view  it  has  been  justly  said,  that  the 
mother  fore-ordains  the  destiny  of  her  child.  Almost  any 
number  of  facts  might  be  adduced,  confirmative  of  this 
aspect  of  maternal  influence :  but  a  few  quotations  must 
suffice. 

The  celebrated  Cuvier,  "from  the  extreme  feebleness 
of  his  childhood,  came  almost  constantly  under  the  care 
of  his  mother.  The  sweetness  of  this  intercourse  dwelt 
upon  his  memory  throughout  his  whole  life."  She  fos- 
tered in  him  that  ardent  desire  for  knowledge  which  was 
so  strong  a  trait  in  his  character.  The  same  fact  has 
made  as  familiar  and  glorious  as  the  history  of  her  son, 
the  name  of  "  Martha,  the  mother  of  Washington."  "  Out 
of  sixty-nine  monarchs  who  have  worn  the  crown  of 
France,"  says  M.  Martin,  "  only  three  have  loved  the 
people ;  and,  remarkable  circumstance,  all  three  were 
brought  up  by  their  mothers."  "I  shall  never  forget," 
said  Kant,  speaking  of  his  mother,  "  that  it  is  she  who 
caused  to  fructify  the  good  which  is  in  my  soul."  "  The 
8 


86  T  TI  E     II  0  L  Y     F  A  M  I  L  Y  . 

future  destiny  of  a  child,"  said  he  ^Yho  lins  been  called 
the  Man  of  Destiny,  "is  always  the  work  of  its  mother.'* 
That  we  may  realize  the  true  import  of  this  influence, 
and  the  momentous  responsibility  which  it  involves,  let  us 
turn  for  a  moment  from  the  mother  to 

THE    CHILD. 

"Mother!  learn  rightly  to  estimate  the  priceless  value  of  a  little 
child.  For  in  that  estimate,  will  be  awakened  a  consciousness  of 
responsibility." 

There  is  on  the  brow  of  infancy  the  seal  of  immortality, 
which  should  inspire  us  with  something  higher  than  re- 
spect, something  holier  than  parental  admiration.  An 
artist  once  said,  he  could  never  paint  the  face  of  a  child, 
for  it  reminded  him  so  much  of  heaven. 

Augustine  said,  "Adam,  though  one,  was  all  men."  In 
him,  says  one  commenting  upon  this  sentiment  of  Augus- 
tine, was  seminally  contained  the  history  of  the  world. 
So,  in  the  little  child,  seminally  exist  the  elements  of  the 
adult  man ;  it  is  the  folio  of  a  man  in  a  single  letter.  And 
children  are  the  budding  of  the  world's  harvest,  the 
fountain  of  her  issues,  the  stepping-stone  of  her  edifice. 

Do  not  look  upon  your  children  merely  as  flowers, 
blossoms,  dewdrops.  "  Flowers  !  they  are  the  flowers  of 
the  invisible  world,  indestructible,  self-perpetuating  flowers. 
Blossoms  !  they  are  the  blossoms  of  another  world,  whose 
fruitage  is  angels  and  archangels.  Or  dewdrops  !  they 
are  dewdrops  that  have  their  source,  not  on  earth,  to  be 


THE    HOLY    FAMILY.  87 

exhaled  by  a  flash  of  sunshine,  but  among  the  everlasting 
fountains  of  mercj  and  love." 

Just  think  what  a  child  is  —  this  being  thus  fresh  from 
the  unknown  realm,  a  bud  enfolding  the  boundless  possi- 
bilities of  humanity  —  and  you  cannot  fail  to  recognize 
the  intrinsic  claims  of  that  little  child.  It  has  an  immortal 
destiny.  You  see  the  first  gleam  of  intelligence  in  its 
infantile  face,  which  will  shine  when  the  sun  is  dark.  You 
see  in  that  little  body  an  undying  spirit,  susceptible  of 
unlimited  expansion,  a  subject  of  God's  moral  kingdom, 
a  creature  on  probation  for  the  destiny  of  hell  or  heaven, 
a  being  destined  to  unmeasured  heights  of  glory,  or 
unfathomed  depths  of  wretchedness  and  despair  ! 

Mother,  it  is  from  you  that  child  receives  the  first 
touch,  the  first  secret  impulse,  in  the  line  of  its  moral, 
stupendous  destiny  !  You  hold  it  at  first  in  your  arms,  a 
mere  passive  thing,  and  it  opens  into  conscious  life,  under 
your  soul,  streaming  into  its  ears  and  eyes.  A  little 
further  on,  and  you  begin  to  stir  its  little  heart  with  the 
sentiment  of  love,  your  smile  is  reflected  from  its  sunny 
face,  and  your  own  love  is  echoed  back  from  its  beating 
heart.  Then,  there  is  the  dawn  of  conscious  intelligence, 
and  the  moulding  and  formative  process  is  fairly  begun. 
Your  words  find  a  soil  in  its  impressible  nature ;  your 
example  will  be  reflected  in  its  life,  and  your  very  life  is 
going  down  perpetually  into  the  child.  How  solemn  and 
responsible  is  the  trust  committed  to  your  care ! 

The  mother  is  to  unfold  that  priceless  germ,  and  guide 


88  TUE    UOLY    FAiMILY. 

that  infant  immortal  in  the  way  to  Jesus  and  to  heaven. 
How  solemn  and  responsible  the  trust !  How  fraught 
with   everlasting  issues  !      Seek  for  wisdom  from  above. 

Pray 

*'  God  !  who  gavest 
Into  my  guiding  hand  this  -vvanderer, 
To  lead  her  through  a  world  whose  darkling  paths 
I  tread  with  steps  so  faltering,  leave  not  me 
To  bring  her  to  the  gates  of  Heaven  alone." 

To  illustrate  this  point,  we  will  take  you  to  Hebron, 
among  the  hills  of  Judea,  and  introduce  you  into  another 

HOIME-SCENE. 

"  Childhood  shows  the  man, 
As  morning  shows  the  day."  —  Milton. 

"  AYhat  manner  of  child  shall  this  be?" 

There  is  a  light  and  joy  in  the  home  of  Zachariah  and 
Elizabeth,  unknown  and  unfelt  before.  AVhat  a  rapturous 
joy  gushes  up  within  those  aged  parents,  as  they  fold  to 
their  bosom  their  first-born  child !  Their  fondest  hopes 
are  fulfilled  in  the  advent  of  that  little  child,  like  a  flower 
in  winter,  to  cheer  them  with  its  late  and  delicate  beauty. 
The  shadows  of  life's  evening  had  been  slowly  darkening 
the  walls  of  their  home,  but  now  they  smiled  with  an 
unwonted  light ;  and  the  stillness  which  had  settled  over 
them,  was  broken  by  the  sweet  sounds  of  childhood. 

When  the  people  heard  of  all  the  wonders  that  sur- 
rounded the  infant  John,  they  exclaimed :  "  What  manner 


T  H  E    H  0  L  Y    F  A  M  I  L  Y  .  89 

of  child  shall  this  be  ?  "  How  the  question  must  have 
thrilled  the  hearts  of  the  parents  !  They  had  some  general 
idea  of  his  great  mission,  but  much  of  the  future  was  veiled 
from  their  vision.  Elizabeth  knew  not  that  the  gentle  form 
which  she  cradled  in  her  arms,  would  one  day  lie  in  a  dark 
and  loathsome  dungeon ;  that  the  beautiful  head  that  pressed 
her  bosom  would  be  severed  from  its  body,  and  brought 
all  ghastly  into  the  festive  hall  of  princely  revelry.  Such 
a  revelation  of  the  future  would  have  shaded  the  visions 
of  that  joyous  mother. 

And  who,  as  a  parent,  can  look  upon  the  little  one, 
without  this  question  spontaneously  rising  up  in  the  mind, 
*'  What  manner  of  child  shall  this  be  ?"  In  that  frail  and 
delicate  form  is  enfolded  the  germ  of  an  immortal  mind. 
And  how  vivid  the  sense  of  responsibility  that  on  us,  as 
parents,  to  a  great  degree,  will  depend  the  destiny  of  that 
child !  Can  the  mother,  with  all  the  gushing  tenderness 
of  a  new-born  joy,  as  her  quickened  thoughts  go  out  from 
that  infant  cradle,  to  roam  through  eternity,  be  otherwise 
than  conscious  of  a  responsibility  she  never  felt  before  ? 

"  I  have  wept 
With  gladness,  at  the  gift  of  this  fair  child ! 

But,  oh  God ! 
Thou  know'st  how  heavily  my  heart  at  times 
Bears  its  sweet  burden.'^ 

How  thrilling  the  thought,  that  the  young  spirit,  which 
clings  to  her  so  confidingly,  shall  receive  from  her  so  many 
elements  of  its  weal  or  woe  !     That,  in  an  important  sense,> 
8* 


90  T  II  E    II  0  L  Y    F  A  M  I  L  Y . 

she  foreordains  the  destiny  of  the  child.  Mother,  put 
back  the  hair  from  the  brow  of  that  bright-faced  boy ! 
That  countenance,  as  yet  undisturbed  by  cares  of  guilt, 
is  serene  as  heaven.  How  does  your  heart  yearn  with 
love,  as  you  breathe  upon  it  the  benedictions  of  God ! 
In  time,  he  will  go  forth  to  grapple  with  the  world,  and  his 
spirit  will  be  tried  in  the  Solemn  issues  of  life.  Can  you 
think  that  ever  those  features  will  become  bloated,  those 
eyes  grow  fiendish  with  dark  and  ungoverned  passion? 
That  those  lips,  now  wreathed  with  beauty,  shall  breathe 
the  fumes  of  drunkenness,  and  that  sweet  and  musical 
voice  shall  break  out  in  oaths  and  blasphemies  ?  With 
such  possibilities,  what  indefinable  solicitudes  tremble  in 
the  parent's  heart,  with  the  question,  "  What  manner  of 
child  shall  this  be  ?  " 

Remember  how  much  of  that  child's  destiny  lies  within 
your  control !  0,  ponder  your  solemn  charge !  Earth 
has  no  greater  trust  than  what  is  devolved  upon  you,  in 
the  education  of  that  little  child. 

Do  you  ask,  what  shall  I  do  ?  Just  what  Zachariah 
and  Elizabeth  did:  bring  up  the  child  in  the  nurture  and 
admonition  of  the  Lord.  Instil  God's  truth  into  its  open- 
ing mind,  by  a  holy  example  and  believing  prayer ;  live 
into  it  a  divine  life,  and  commit  it  to  the  guardian  care  and 
saving  power  of  Jesus,  the  good  shepherd. 


THE    HOLY    FAMILY.  91 


APPEAL   TO   MOTHERS. 


With  these  aspects  of  the  maternal  relations,  its  forma- 
tive and  controlling  influence,  and  its  momentous  responsi- 
bility, we  turn  again  to  the  picture  as  in  the  beginning  of 
this  chapter,  and  ask  all  mothers  to  behold  Mary,  watching 
beside  the  holy  child.  Mary,  with  that  child  in  her 
bosom,  bearing  it  away  from  the  destructive  sword  of 
Herod — from  the  storm  that  was  gathering  over  the 'infant 
cradles  of  Bethlehem. 

Herod  still  rages.  His  spirit  is  still  the  spirit  of  the 
world — of  the  world's  passions  and  its  policy.  The  child 
still  needs  protection  and  guardianship.  It  is  still  im- 
perilled by  sin,  and  its  multiform  snares  and  temptations ; 
and  who,  if  not  the  mother,  shall  watch  over  it,  and 
shield  it  from  the  destroyer. 

But  for  this  sacred  office,  you  need  the  piety  of  Mary 
—  her  faith  in  God  —  her  deep  devotion  and  holy  enthu- 
siasm,—  that  like  her  you  may  keep  your  watch  of  love, 
and  then  Herod  will  wait  in  vain  to  destroy. 

OUR   COUNTRY. 

In  a  critical  period  of  the  French  history,  Napoleon 
said  to  Madame  Campan,  "  The  old  systems  of  education 
are  worth  nothing.  What  is  wanted  for  the  proper  train- 
ing of  young  persons  in  France?"  With  emphasis,  she 
replied,  ^'  Mothers  T 


92  THE     HOLY     FAMILY. 

What  is  most  needed  in  the  present  history  of  our  na- 
tion? 3Tothers!  Our  country  wants  virtuous  citizens,  and 
honest,  magnanimous,  God-fearing  statesmen  and  rulers. 
The  churches  want  ministers  and  missionaries,  with  a 
Christ-like  spirit,  and  a  Paul-like  zeal.  And,  they  must 
come  from  Christian  homes,  where  mothers,  like  Mary, 
keep  watch.  0,  ye  mothers !  could  ye  lift  up  the  veil, 
and  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  momentous  Future,  and  realize 
that  in  the  secresy  of  home,  you  are  determining,  through 
your  children,  what  that  future  shall  be,  your  soul  would 
be  jfired  with  a  patriotism,  which  would  lay  the  child  upon 
the  altar  of  his  country,  and  a  Christian  devotion  that 
would  make  him  an  offering  on  the  altar  of  his  God.  Yes  ; 
to  mothers,  God  has  committed,  in  a  measure,  the  destiny 
of  the  world. 

And  when  we  reflect  that  in  this  land  there  are  three 
million  of  mothers,  with  three  hundred  thousand  infants, 
to  be  moulded  by  a  mother's  plastic  hand  and  quenchless 
love  —  the  prayer  rises  spontaneously  from  our  trembling 
heart  to  heaven,  that  God  would  bless  the  homes  and 
mothers  of  our  land.  For  herein  lies  the  great  element 
of  power  and  of  hope  for  our  country.  The  church  and 
home  must  go  together,  and  unite  our  nation  under  the 
empire  of  Christ,  as  under  the  empire  of  civil  law.  And 
it  is  a  matter  of  hope,  as  we  look  out  over  this  vast  country, 
that  the  church  and  home  are  advancing  together  from 
the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific  shore.  The  farmer  of  Oregon, 
the  miner  of  California,  are  not  to  be  beyond  the  pale  of 


T  HE    II  0  L  Y    F  A  M  I  L  Y .  93 

Christian  civilization.  Even  they  shall  hear  the  chimes 
that  tell  of  the  nativity  of  the  Saviour  —  they  shall  find 
in  their  homes,  rude  cabins  though  they  may  be,  pleasant 
faces,  whose  womanly  grace  and  childish  confidence  shall 
reveal  a  light  kindled  of  old  by  the  Blessed  Mother,  and 
nurtured  for  ever  by  her  Holy  Child. 


THE   MOTHER'S   REWARD. 

The  appeal  is  made  to  every  mother,  with  a  personal 
emphasis,  and  the  promise  of  special  results. 

Richly  that  Christ-child  repaid  his  mother's  watching. 
And  so  will  every  child  thus  nurtured,  repay  the  pious 
mother,  for  her  vigils  of  love,  teachings  of  wisdom  and 
prayers  of  faith. 

The  permanency  of  early  impressions,  indicate  both  the 
responsibility  and  hopefulness  of  your  work. 

CHATEAUBRIAND  AND  HIS  MOTHER. 

The  conversion  of  this  great  French  author  is  a  striking 
illustration  of  the  maternal  power  and  mission.  We  give 
the  account  of  his  recall  to  duty,  from  a  wild  and  reckless 
career  of  folly,  in  his  own  graceful  and  touching  language : 

"  My  mother,  after  having  been  thrown,  at  seventy-two 
years  of  age,  into  a  dungeon  where  she  was  an  eye-witness 
of  the  destruction  of  some  of  her  children,  expired  at  last 
upon  a  pallet,  to  which  her  misfortunes  had  reduced  her. 


94  T  II  E     II  0  L  Y     F  A  M  I  L  Y . 

The  remembrance  of  my  errors  diffused  great  bitterness 
over  her  last  days.  In  her  dying  moments,  she  charged 
one  of  my  sisters  to  call  me  back  to  that  religion  in  which 
I  had  been  brought  up.  My  sister,  faithful  to  the  solemn 
trust,  communicated  to  me  the  last  request  of  my  mother. 
When  her  letter  reached  me,  beyond  the  seas,  far  distant 
from  my  native  country,  my  sister  was  no  more  —  she  had 
died  in  consequence  of  the  rigors  of  her  imprisonment. 
These  two  voices  issuing  from  the  tomb  —  this  death, 
which  seemed  as  the  interpreter  of  death,  struck  me  with 
irresistible  force,  and  I  became  a  Christian.  I  did  not,  I 
allow,  yield  to  great  supernatural  illuminations,  but  my 
conviction  of  the  truth  of  Qhristianity  sprung  from  the 
heart,     I  wept,  and  I  believed/' 

Take  another  illustration. 

"  When  I  was  j^  little  child,"  said  a  good  old  man,  *'my 
mother  used  to  bid  me  kneel  down  beside  her,  and  place 
her  hand  upon  my  head,  while  she  prayed.  Ere  I  was 
old  enough  to  know  her  worth,  she  died,  and  I  was  left 
too  much  to  my  own  guidance.  Like  others,  I  was  inclined 
to  evil  passions,  but  often  felt  myself  checked,  and,  as  it 
were,  drawn  back  by  a  soft  hand  upon  my  head.  When  a 
young  man,  I  travelled  in  foreign  lands,  and  was  exposed 
to  many  temptations ;  but  when  I  would  have  yielded, 
that  same  hand  was  upon  my  head,  and  I  was  saved.  I 
seemed  to  feel  its  pressure  as  in  the  days  of  my  happy 
infancy,  and  sometimes  there  came  with  it  a  voice  in  my 


T  H  E     II  0  L  Y    F  A  M  I  L  Y  .  9§ 

heart,   a  voice  that  must  be  obeyed.  —  '0,   do  not  this 
wickedness,  my  son,  nor  sin  against  God.'" 

Through  all  changes  of  place  and  time,  those  early  im- 
pressions remained  unefFaced  from  the  memory  of  the 
heart  — 

"  In  foreign  lands  I  travelled  wide, 
My  pulse  was  bounding  high, 
Vice  spread  her  meshes  by  my  side, 
And  pleasure  lured  my  eye :  — 

Yet  still  that  hand,  so  soft  and  cold, 

Maintained  its  mystic  sway, 
As  when,  amid  my  curls  of  gold. 

With  gentle  force  it  lay. 

And  with  it  breathed  a  voice  of  care, 
As  from  the  lowly  sod, 
**  My  son  —  my  only  one  —  beware  ! 
Nor  sin  against  thy  God.'^ 

Ye  think,  perchance,  that  age  hath  stole 

My  kindly  warmth  away. 
And  dimmed  the  tablet  of  the  soul ;  — 

Yet  when,  with  lordly  sway, 

This  brow  the  plumed  helm  displayed, 

That  guides  the  warrior  throng, 
Or  beauty's  thrilling  fingers  strayed 

These  many  locks  among, — 

That  hallowed  touch  was  ne'er  forgot!  — 

And  now,  though  time  hath  set 
His  frosty  seal  upon  my  lot. 

These  temples  feel  it  yet. 

There  are  thousands  whose  childhood  was  blessed  with 
such  a  mother's  love  and  pious  care,  who  can  repeat  from 


96  /  THE    HOLY     FAMILY. 

tliclr  vory  liearts  and  hopes,  the   touching  sentiment  of 
the  last  verse : — 

And  if  I  e'er  in  heaven  appear, 
A  mother's  holy  prayer, 
•  A  mother's  hand,  and  gentle  tear, 
That  pointed  to  a  Savior  dear, 
Have  led  the  wanderer  there. 

We  look  upon  this  relation  of  the  mother  to  the  child 
almost  with  awe.  "What  a  holy  charge  is  theirs  !  With 
what  a  queenly  power  their  love  can  rule  the  fountain  of 
the  new-born  mind !  Mothers  !  be  faithful  to  this  holy, 
this  momentous  trust.  Like  Mary,  look  to  God  for  grace 
and  wisdom  to  fulfil  your  mission.  He  who  heard  the 
prayer  of  Hagar  in  the  wilderness,  will  listen  to  your 
earnest  cries  for  help.  He  who  guided  the  destinies  of 
her  child,  will  watch  and  conduct  yours.  You  may  not 
lead  out  an  Ishmael  upon  the  scene  of  life.  You  may  not 
rear  a  Washington,  or  leave  your  name  — 

"Wrought  out  in  marble,  with  a  nation's  tears 
Of  deathless  gratitude ;  yet  may  you  raise 
A  monument  above  the  stars ;  a  soul 
Led  by  your  teachings  and  your  prayers  to  God." 

There  is  a  picture,  which,  in  some  points,  illustrates 
your  position.  "  It  is  of  a  mother,  who,  with  her  infant 
child,  has  fallen  from  the  deck  of  a  vessel,  at  sea.  The 
wild  waves  dash  around  her,  and  exhaust  her  strength. 
Yet  still  she  clings  to  her  infant,  and  holds  him  up,  above 
the   hungry  billows,  shouting  —  'Save   my  child!'     The 


T  H.  E     n  0  L  Y    F  A  M  T  L  Y.  97 

waves  grow  wilder ;  thick  mists  swim  before  lier  eyes  ;  the 
sea  now  flings  her  close  to  the  ship,  now  madly  dashes  her 
back.  Still,  not  of  herself  she  thinks,  but  of  him  whom 
she  holds  aloft,  crying — '  Save  my  child  !'  And  lo  !  from 
that  vessel  a  strong  arm  is  reached  down,  and  they  are 
saved.  Mother  !  amid  the  sweeping  temptations  of  life,  in 
the  vortex  of  the  world,  bear  up  in  the  arms  of  love,  and 
with  the  prayer  of  faith,  that  child  of  thine,  and  a 
Redeeming  Hand  shall  be  reached  down  from  heaven." 

And  0,  the  reward  of  a  faithful  Christian  mother  on 
earth  and  in  heaven  !  Taken  up  to  dwell  together  before 
the  throne  of  God  and  the  Lamb,  that  child  of  prayer  and 
faith  will  sparkle  there  as  a  pearl-drop  in  your  crown  of 
life  and  glory ! 

DEATH-SCENE. 

There  was  a  shaded  chamber, 

A  silent,  watching  band, 
On  a  low  couch,  a  suffering  child. 

Who  grasped  the  mother's  hand. 

She  had  told  her  faith  in  Jesus, 

Her  simple  prayer  was  said, 
And  now,  that  darkened  vale  she  trod, 

Which  leadeth  to  the  dead. 

Red  fever  scorched  her  bosom, 

Frost  chilled  the  vital  flame, 
And  her  sweet,  meek  brow  was  troubled, 

As  anguish  smote  her  frame. 

Yet,  'mid  the  gasp  and  struggle, 
With  shuddering  lips,  she  cried, 
"Oh,  mother  —  dearest  mother, 
Bury  me  by  your  side." 


98  THE     HOLY     FAMILY. 

LoukI  louk  !  tlic  thin  lip  (lulvers, 

Tho  blue  eyes  open  wide, 
And  what  a  soft,  low,  whisper  steals,— 
^'Biiry  me  by  your  side.'' 

And  did  the  spirit  falter 
Upon  its  upward  track, 

To  strew  this  never-dying  flower 
In  tender  token  back  ? 

Even  at  the  gate  of  Heaven, 
Whence  songs  of  angels  flow, 

Remembered  it  the  cradlo  hymn 
That  soothed  its  infant  woe? 

Oh,  mother's  love!  thus  strong  to  lure 
A  seraph  from  on  high  ; 

Be  faithful  to  thy  trust  —  and  bear 
Thy  nurslings  to  the  sky. 


C[ja|itn  €Ynh, 

CANA;   OR,   THE   BRIDAL-SCENE. 

**  There  was  a  marriage  in  Cana  of  Galilee  ....  and  both  Jesus 
was  called  and  his  disciples  to  the  marriage.'' — John. 

"  Marriage  is  a  figure  and  an  earnest  of  holier  things  unseen, 
And  reverence  well  becometh  the  symbol  of  dignity  and  glory." 

TUPPER. 

This  bridal-scene  in  Cana  of  Galilee  lives  in  Christian 
memory,  as  the  only  marriage  on  sacred  record  at  which 
Jesus  was  present.  Among  the  thousands  of  nuptial 
scenes  that  have  taken  place  —  often  amid  the  most 
imposing  pageantry  of  royal  grandeur  —  this  one,  in  a 
sequestered  hamlet  of  Palestine,  stands  out  pre-eminent 
in  history,  as  consecrated  by  the  presence  of  Christ.  His 
presence  at  the  Cana  festival  was  a  reconsecration  of  this 
memorial  of  Paradise.  It  was  a  recognition  of  marriage 
as  the  normal  relation  of  social  life  —  the  basis  of  the 
domestic  constitution  —  a  relation  instituted  by  God,  and 
sanctified  by  Christ. 

This  home- scene  at  Cana  suggests  and  illustrates  this 
fundamental  moral  relation  in  its  Christian  aspects.  For 
though  the  relation  itself  is  coeval  with  humanity,  it  has 
degenerated,  under  the  influence  of  sin  ;  and  Christianity 
alone  restores  it  to  its  primeval  harmony  and  significance, 

(99) 


100  cana;    or, 

investing  it  with  a  holy  dignity  —  an  almost  sacramental 
character. 

In  the  discussion  of  this  normal  relation  of  the  home- 
life,  wc  shall  advert  to  the  original  institution  in  Paradise, 
its  design  and  object,  and  then,  passing  on  to  this  nuptial 
scene  at  Cana,  seek  to  unfold  its  obvious  suggestions  of 
the  influence  of  Christianity  upon  this  institution.  How 
it  has  restored  and  ennobled  the  marriage  relation,  making 
it,  as  in  Eden,  a  bond  of  sweet  and  sacred  unity,  invested 
with  immortal  affections  and  eternal  sanctions  ! 


EARTH'S    FIRST    BRIDAL. 

"And  the  Lord  God  said,  It  is  not  good  that  the  man  should  bo 
alone  ;  I  will  make  him  an  help-meet  for  him."  —  Moses. 

"  To  be  man's  tender  mate  was  woman  born, 
And  in  obeying  nature,  she  best  serves 
The  purposes  of  Heaven."  —  Schiller. 

Man  had  just  come  from  the  creative  hands,  in  the 
perfection  of  humanity,  with  his  noble  form  and  majestic 
brow,  and  soul  enstamped  with  the  moral  image  of  God, 
clothed  with  honor  and  glory.  Around  that  first  man  was 
the  beauty  of  Eden ;  the  very  air  was  laden  with  the  fra- 
grance of  flowers,  and  the  song  of  birds.  But  he  was 
alone.  There  was  no  human  face  into  which  he  could  look, 
and  see  the  reflection  of  his  own  —  there  was  no  heart  to 
beat  responsive  to  his  new-born  joys  ;  no  human  being  to 
whom  he  could  whisper  the  grateful  wonder  of  his  soul, 


THE     ERIDAL-SCENE.  101 

and  say,  "  How  beautiful  is  this  our  home,  how  good  our 
Father  who  made  it  thus  !" 

Adam  was  not  complete  without  Eve.  There  was  a 
vague  feeling  of  want,  as  if  he  were  but  half  a  man,  an 
undefined  consciousness  that  something  was  wanting  to 
consummate  his  blessedness — 

"In  vain  the  viewless  seraph  lingering  there, 
At  starry  midnight,  charmed  the  silent  air; 
In  vain  the  wild  bird  carolled  on  the  steep, 
To  hail  the  sun,  slow  wheeling  from  the  deep. 
Still  slowly  passed  the  melancholy  day, 
And  still  the  stranger  wist  not  where  to  stray ; 
The  world  was  sad  —  the  garden  was  a  wild, 
And  man  the  hermit  sighed,  till  woman  smiled." 

"It  is  not  good  for  man  to  be  alone ;  I  will  make  him 
an  help-meet  for  him." 

"  And  the  Lord  caused  a  deep  sleep  to  fall  upon  Adam, 
and  he  slept ;  and  he  took  one  of  his  ribs,  and  closed  up 
the  flesh  instead  thereof.  And  the  rib  which  the  Lord 
God  had  taken  from  man,  made  he  a  woman,  and  brought 
her  unto  the  man." 

Why  the  Almighty  adopted  this  particular  process  in 
the  creation  of  woman,  we  are  not  told.  A  young  lady 
once  asked  a  distinguished  surgeon,  "Why  woman  was 
made  from  the  rib  of  man,  in  preference  to  any  other 
bone?"  He  gave  the  following  gallant  answer:  "She 
was  not  taken  from  the  head  of  man,  lest  she  should  rule 
over  him ;  nor  from  his  feet,  lest  he  should  trample  upon 
her ;  but  she  was  taken  from  his  side,  that  she  might  be 
9* 


102  C  A  N  A  ;     OR, 

his  equal ;  from  under  his  arm,  that  he  might  protect  her; 
from  near  his  heart,  tliat  he  might  love  and  cherish  her.'* 

The  particular  method  of  woman's  creation  had  a  mys- 
tical meaning,  symbolical  of  the  marriage  relation — "  She 
shall  be  called  woman  (rnanness),  because  she  was  taken 
out  of  man.  Therefore  shall  a  man  leave  his  father  and 
his  mother,  and  shall  cleave  unto  his  wife,  and  they  shall 
be  one  flesh." 

Thus,  what  seems  to  the  sneering  caviller  a  childish  fable, 
is  to  the  thoughtful  student  a  beautiful  symbol  of  marriage, 
and  of  the  true  relation  of  the  sexes  to  each  other. 

We  have  no  account  of  the  personal  appearance  of  our 
primeval  mother ;  but  we  know  that  she  was  the  outwrought 
divine  ideal  of  a  'perfect  woman.  A  true  artist's  ideal 
of  female  form  and  expression  is  beautiful,  as  we  see  it 
developed  in  the  Venus  of  Titian,  and  the  Greek  Slave  of 
Powers.  Eve  existed  as  a  thought,  an  ideal,  in  the  divine 
mind  before  she  was  made.  And  how  glorious  must  have 
been  the  embodiment  of  God's  ideal  of  woman  !  With  what 
ecstatic  wonder  the  first  man  must  have  gazed  on  the  first 
woman,  radiant  with  transcendent  loveliness,  who  was  to 
be  his  companion,  his  bosom-friend,  his  wife ! 

Milton's  description  of  Eve,  we  believe  to  be  as  true  as 
it  is  beautiful : 

"  Iler  heavenly  form 
Angelic,  but  more  soft  and  feminine 

Her  graceful  innocence 

Grace  was  in  all  her  steps,  heaven  in  her  eye, 
In  every  gesture  dignity  and  love." 


THE    BRIDAL-SCENE.  103 

Equally  true  is  his  representation  of  Adam,  in  the  first 
ecstatic  outburst  of  his  feelings,  exclaiming  — 

**  0,  fairest  of  creation,  last  and  best 
Of  all  God's  works." 

In  this  record  of  Moses,  we  have  the  divine  origin  of 
marriage ;  "we  see  the  first  human  pair  united  in  mar- 
riage bonds  —  earth's  first  bridal." 

Thus  divine  in  its  origin,  and  beautiful  in  its  associations, 
is  the  marriage  institution.  We  trace  its  credentials  to 
this  Mosaic  record  of  the  first  human  pair.  Its  afiiecting 
ceremonial  was  the  crowning  act  of  creation.  Its  officiating 
High  Priest  was  God  himself.  The  altar  was  some  fragrant 
bower,  amid  the  primeval  Paradise.  Attending  angels  were 
the  witnesses ;  and  the  first  epithalamium  was  the  song  of 
the  morning  stars.  No  other  institution  can  boast  of  a 
higher  or  holier  inauguration,  or  show  such  an  antiquity. 
The  records  of  it  are  the  first  syllables  of  written  history, 
and  the  faintest  stammerings  of  tradition.  The  first 
breathing  of  its  spirit  was  the  simplicity  of  the  happy 
pair  in  Eden,  in  their  first  and  sinless  love.  It  began 
while  the  earliest  beams  of  the  world's  twilight  were 
shooting  up  into  a  sky,  with  nameless  stars,  and  dawning 
over  an  unpeopled  world. 

This  primeval  and  divine  ordination  of  marriage,  as 
recorded  by  Moses,  was  recognised  and  endorsed  by  Jesus, 
the  great  Teacher,  who  declared  it  to  be  an  appointment 


10-1  c  A  N  A  ;    on, 

of  God,  forecast  in  the  plan  of  creation,  and  founded  there- 
fore in  the  constitution  of  nature. 

"  Have  ye  not  read  (saith  our  Lord)*  that  He  who  made 
them  [man  and  wife]  at  the  beginning,  made  them  [a]  male 
and  [a]  female ;  [as  intending  to  prevent  both  pol^^gamy 
and  divorce]  and  said  [as  the  formal  authentication  of  the 
great  law  of  marriage  already  inserted  in  the  constitution 
of  human  nature],  For  this  cause  [or,  on  account  of  enter- 
ing into  the  married  state]  shall  a  man  leave  his  father 
and  mother  [the  nearest  relation  he  had  previously  sus- 
tained], and  cleave  unto  his  wife,  and  they  twain  shall  be 
one  flesh.  Wherefore,  they  are  no  more  twain,  but  one 
flesh."  A  union  this  so  intimate,  that  every  other  is  to 
yield  to  it ;  so  sacred,  that  the  Divine  proclamation  con- 
cerning it  is,  "  What  God  hath  joined  together  let  no  man 
put  asunder;"  so  indissoluble,  that  nothing  is  to  separate 
it  but  that  which  separates  the  soul  from  the  body ;  so 
spiritual  in  its  ultimate  relations  and  aims,  as  to  find  its 
antitype  only  in  that  divine  union  which,  as  the  fruit  of 
redemption,  is  to  survive  every  other,  and  to  attain  its 
consummation  in  heaven. f 

This  primeval  law  of  marriage,  asserted  by  Moses,  and 
recognised  by  Christ,  is  a  great  and  beautiful  law  of 
nature.  "It  is  that  principle  of  duality  which  runs 
through  the  universe,  dividing  every  perfect  whole  into 

*  Matthew,  xix.  4-6,  referring  to  Genesis,  ii.  24. 
t  Patriarchy,  by  John  Harris,  D.  D.,  p.  87. 


THE    BRIDAL-SCENE.  105 

two  parts,  assigning  to  each  its  own  necessary  work,  and 
rendering  this  very  diversity  essential  to  harmony.  It  is 
the  duality  of  day  and  night,  of  the  leaf  and  the  flower, 
of  the  hand  and  the  heart.  By  virtue  of  this  law, 
humanity  is  two-fold,  and  is  perfect  only  in  the  man  and 
the  woman ;  each  of  these  having  a  peculiar  sphere." 

This  duality  —  in  the  original  institution  of  marriage — 
is  a  divine  protest  against  polygamy  —  which  is  utterly 
subversive  of  the  great  and  beneficent  ends  of  the  domestic 
economy,  and  destructive  of  all  social  organization.  This 
primeval  enactment  of  monogamy  is  further  confirmed  by 
the  providential  fact,  of  the  substantial  equality  of  the 
numbers  of  both  sexes  born  in  all  countries,  and  amidst 
every  diversity  of  circumstances.  It  is  manifestly  the 
divine  idea,  as  Paul  expresses  it,  that  "  every  man  should 
have  his  own  wife,  and  every  woman  her  own  husband.'* 
And  all  history  shows,  that  an  infringement  of  this  law, 
has  ever  been  disastrous  to  the  dearest  interests  of  society. 
So  that  there  is  a  beautiful  harmony,  between  the  will  of 
God  expressed  in  the  constitution  of  nature,  and  the 
appointment  of  the  marriage  institution. 

The  moral  reasons  for  this  appointment  of  the  marriage 
relation,  are  distinctly  asserted  by  the  prophet  Malachi 
(chap.  ii.  14,  15).  In  one  of  his  bold  remonstrances 
against  the  sins  of  his  times,  he  exclaims,  "The  Lord 
hath  been  witness  between  thee  and  the  wife  of  thy  youth, 
against  w^hom  thou  hast  dealt  treacherously;  yet  is  she 
thy  companion  and  the  wife  of  thy  covenant.     And  did 


106  C  A  N  A  ;     OR, 

he  not  make  one  ?  Yet  had  he  the  residue  of  the  Spirit. 
And  wherefore  one  ?  That  he  might  seek  a  godly  seed?'' 
Here  the  last  of  the  Old  Testament  prophets  plainly 
asserts  that  God  laid  the  foundation  of  the  marriage 
institution  in  the  original  creation  of  a  single  pair,  and 
affirms  that  the  beneficent  design  of  the  arrangement  was 
the  advancement  of  virtue  and  religion  by  means  of  the 
domestic  economy. 

The  same  truth  was  expressed  in  the  beautiful  old  chant 
of  the  Jewish  Temple-service,  and  has  been  echoed  by  the 
church  in  some  form  ever  since;  "  God  setteth  the  solitary 
in  families." 

It  must  be  obvious  at  once,  that  without  the  institution 
of  marriage,  the  family  could  have  had  no  existence — and 
consequently  there  could  have  been  no  domestic  ties,  no 
kindred  affinities,  no  social  order  and  affections,  no 
civilization,  and  no  progress. 

"Marriage,"  says  Jeremy  Taylor,  "is  the  mother  of 
the  world,  and  preserves  kingdoms  and  fills  cities  and 
churches  and  heaven  itself.  Celibate,  like  the  fly  in  the 
heart  of  an  apple,  dwells  in  a  perpetual  sweetness,  but 
sits  alone,  and  is  confined  and  dies  in  singularity;  but 
marriage,  like  the  useful  bee,  builds  a  house,  and  gathers 
sweetness  from  every  flower,  and  labors,  and  unites  into 
societies  and  republics,  and  sends  out  colonies,  and  keeps 
order,  and  exercises  many  virtues,  and  promotes  the 
interest  of  mankind,  and  is  that  state  of  good  things  to 


THE     BRIDAL-SCR>.E.  lOT 

whlcli  God  hatK  designed  the  present  constitution  of  the 
world." 

We  present  the  following  eloquent  passage  from  Dr. 
Hague,  incorporating  a  quotation  from  Robert  Hall,  both 
illustrating  in  a  forcible  manner,  the  aspect  of  marriage, 
now  under  consideration. 

"  Where  is  the  man,  gifted  with  ordinary  means  of  in- 
formation, who  has  not  seen  that,  wheresoever  the  sanctions 
of  the  marriage  institution  are  disregarded,  home  life  has 
no  permanent  attractions ;  that  the  private  virtues  of 
every  class  are  deprived  of  all  genial  aliment ;  that  there 
domestic  education  cannot  exist,  and  the  evil  passions  of 
childhood  are  left  to  luxuriate  in  fearful  wildness ;  that 
there  the  kindly  affections  of  our  nature  are  often  blasted 
in  the  bud ;  that  habits  of  industry  and  of  self-control  are 
never  formed,  and  the  moral  dignity  of  woman  —  that 
great  conservative  element  of  the  social  state  —  can 
scarcely  be  named  but  to  awaken  the  ruthless  spirit  of 
mockery  and  satire  ?  Entirely  truthful  to  nature  and  to 
history  are  the  words  of  Robert  Hall,  in  his  celebrated 
discourse  on  Modern  Infidelity:  *' Marriage  institutions 
are  the  great  civilizers  of  the  world,  and  essential  to  the 
welfare  of  mankind.  They  are  sources  of  tenderness  as 
well  as  guardians  of  peace.  Without  the  permanent  union 
of  sexes  there  can  be  no  permanent  union  of  families ;  the 
dissolution  of  nuptial  ties  involves  the  dissolution  of 
domestic  society.  But  domestic  society  is  the  seminary 
of  social  affections,  the  cradle  of  sensibility,  where  the 


lOS  C  A  N  A  ;      0  11, 

first  elements  are  aeqiiired  of  tliat  tenderness  and  humanity 
'svliich  cement  mankind  together  ;  and  "were  they  entirely 
extinguished,  the  whole  fabric  of  social  institutions  would 
be  dissolved."  What  a  signal  realization  of  this  truth 
was  presented  to  the  gaze  of  all  mankind  by  the  most 
refined  country  of  Europe,  during  that  "  Reign  of  Terror'* 
which  covered  the  whole  realm  with  a  pall  of  funereal 
gloom  !  Although  the  French  Revolution  sprang,  by  a 
natural  law  of  reaction,  from  the  atrocities  of  that  kingly 
and  priestly  despotism  that  had  preceded  it,  nevertheless, 
it  became  a  raging  whirlwind,  which  the  Genius  of  Infi- 
delity could  not  rule ;  and  when  we  pore  over  the  horrors 
of  that  stormy  time,  when  our  hearts  sicken  in  view  of 
that  chaotic  ruin  into  which  France  was  plunged,  let  us 
remember  that  this  state  of  things  was  heralded  by  the 
granting  of  twenty  thousand  divorces  in  the  city  of  Paris 
in  a  single  year,  and  celebrated  by  the  public  adoration 
of  a  beautiful,  but  vile  and  shameless  woman,  who  was 
enthroned  as  the  "  Goddess  of  Reason,"  and  borne  through 
the  streets  in  a  splendid  chariot,  amid  the  honors  of  a 
grand  triumphal  procession.  Facts  like  these  have  a 
terrible  significance,  showing,  as  they  do,  to  what  an 
extent  the  moral  sentiment  had  become  corrupted  through- 
out all  classes  of  a  cultivated  community,  and  showing, 
too,  that  wheresoever  the  marriage  institution  —  the  chief 
support  of  domestic  virtue  —  becomes  subverted,  the  state 
itself  will  reel  from  its  position,  and  involve  all  the 
interests  of  society  in  its  overthrow. 


THE     BRIDAL-SCENE.  109 

With  tills  aspect  of  marriage,  its  divine  ordination,  its 
multiform  bearings  upon  all  the  springs  of  social  life  and 
religious  culture  and  advancement,  we  are  not  surprised 
to  find  such  frequent  testimonials  in  the  Scriptures,  to  the 
dignity  and  inviolable  sanctity  of  this  relation.  We  do 
not  wonder  that  the  Bible  in  its  spirit  and  penal  enact- 
ments, so  guards  the  married  relation,  and  shields  the 
home-circle  —  making  the  family  pre-eminent  among  the 
chosen  instrumentalities  for  the  accomplishment  of  the 
divine  purposes  of  mercy  to  our  fallen  world. 

Without  the  domestic  constitution  and  the  household 
nurture  and  influence,  what  would  become  of  childhood, 
in  its  guileless  innocence  and  helplessness  ?  What  of  those 
home-restraints  and  bonds,  clasping  the  great  social  circle  ? 
"  Relax  and  sever  the  household  bond ;  melt  +.his  golden 
chain,  and  scatter  it  on  the  broad  and  undefined  surface 
of  a  loose  and  licentious  socialism ;  and  where  are  th© 
hopes,  either  of  the  church  or  the  world  ?" 

Let  us  resist  every  tendency  to  disparage  the  sacredness 
of  the  marriage  relation,  to  release  the  bonds  of  domestic 
life,  or  to  impair  our  sense,  not  only  of  their  divine 
authority,  but  of  their  important  influential  relation  to 
social  organization,  and  the  very  existence  of  the  church, 
in  all  her  manifold  blessings. 

Let  us  cherish  these  sacred  institutions — "  The  God  of 
love  has  made  choice  of  the  domestic  relations  as  the 
depositories  of  his  grace,  and  there  laid  the  deep  founda- 
10 


110  CAN  a;    or, 

tions  of  that  spiritual  temple,  from  wliicli  the  symbol  of 
his  presence  and  glory  is  never  more  to  depart." 

"Thou  art  the  nurse  of  virtue.     In  thine  arras 
She  smiles,  appearing;,  as  in  truth  she  is, 
Ileaven-born,  and  destined  to  the  skies  again." 


MARRIAGE   IN   CAN  A. 

"And  Jesus  was  called  to  the  marriage."  —  John. 

"It  is  -well  that  Jesus  was  at  that  feast.  The  ages  since  have 
remembered  his  presence,  and  his  sacred  name,  heard  still  at  the 
marriage,  deepens  its  memory  and  consecrates  its  joy." 

"  There  are  smiles  and  tears  in  that  gathering  band, 
Where  the  heart  is  pledged  with  the  trembling  hand. 
What  trying  thoughts  in  the  bosom  swell, 
As  the  bride  bids  parents  and  home  farewell ! 
Kneel  down  by  the  side  of  the  tearful  fair. 
And  strengthen  the  perilous  hour  with  prayer." 

There  is  something  beautiful  and  significant  in  the  fact, 
that  the  Saviour  began  his  miracles  at  a  wedding,  rather 
than  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  or  the  gate  of  Nain.  In  a 
life  so  brief,  yet  wondrous,  every  step  of  which  seemed  to 
be  pre-determined,  and  taken,  for  the  illustration  of  his 
great  mission  of  love,  this  commencement  of  his  public 
ministry  at  a  marriage,  was  not  accidental. 

^'  This  beginning  of  miracles  did  Jesus  in  Cana  of 
Galilee,  and  manifested  forth  his  glory." 

Apart  from  all  that  is  local  and  temporary,  this  miracle, 
says  Trench,  may  be  taken  as  the  sign  and  symbol  of  all 
•which  Christ  is  evermore  doing  in  the  world,  ennobling  all 


THE    BRIDAL-SCENE.  Ill 

that  he  touches,  making  saints  out  of  sinners,  angels  out 
of  men,  and  in  the  end  heaven  out  of  earth,  a  new  para- 
dise of  God  out  of  the  old  wilderness  of  the  world.* 

"  We  need  not  wonder  to  find  the  Lord  of  life  at  that 
festival;  for  he  came  to  sanctify  all  life — its  times  of  joy, 
as  its  times  of  sorrow :  and  all  experience  tells  us,  that  it 
is  times  of  gladness,  such  as  this  was  now,  which  espe- 
cially need  such  a  sanctifying  power,  such  a  presence  of 
the  Lord.  In  times  of  sorrow,  the  sense  of  God's  presence 
comes  more  naturally  out :  in  these  it  is  in  danger  to  be 
forgotten.  He  was  there,  and  by  his  presence  there 
struck  the  key-note  to  the  whole  future  tenor  of  his 
ministry.  He  should  not  be  as  another  Baptist,  to  with- 
draw himself  from  the  common  paths  of  men,  a  preacher 
in  the  wilderness :  but  his  should  be  a  harder  and  a  higher 
task,  to  mingle  with  and  purify  the  common  life  of  men, 
to  witness  for  and  bring  out  the  glory  which  was  hidden 
in  its  every  relation.  And  it  is  not,  perhaps,  without  its 
significance,  that  this  should  have  been  especially  a 
marriage,  which  he  adorned  and  beautified  with  his 
presence  and  first  miracle." f 

In  this  home-scene,  Christ  assumes  an  attitude  of  be- 
nignity towards  the  family  relation,  and  his  first  miracle, 
as  it  has  been  said,  dawned  in  the  form  of  a  nuptial 
benediction  upon  a  young  couple  beginning  their  conjugal 
life.  This  institution,  among  the  most  delightful  reminis- 
cences of  Paradise,  received  a  reconsecration  at  this 
*  Trench.  f  Ibid. 


112  CAN  a;   or, 

joyous  festival.     It  was  a  beautiful  inauguration  of  his 
public  ministry,  in  its  social  aspects. 

The  Saviour  meets  the  human  race,  whom  he  came  to 
bless,  first  of  all  at  a  nuptial  ceremony,  and  gave  tbe  first 
manifestation  of  his  glory  amidst  its  innocent  festivities. 
The  miracle,  apart  from  its  immediate  object,  was  a  sy.ra- 
bolic  representation  of  the  great  spiritual  process  by  which 
he  would  transform  what  is  earthly  into  the  spiritual  —  what 
is  human  into  the  divine.  And  how  natural  he  should 
begin  his  work  at  a  wedding,  and  that  the  first  outgleam- 
ing  of  his  divine  glory  should  hallow  a  bridal  festivity ! 
It  was  a  formal  consecration  of  the  union  that  founds  the 
family  —  the  very  basis  of  society,  and  all  existing  organi- 
zations. It  was,  moreover,  a  practical  rebuke  of  the 
asceticism  that  scorns  the  social  affections,  "and  would 
make  of  life  a  ghostly  austerity,  just  as  if  man  were  hea- 
venly by  being  unearthly."  The  posture  of  Christ  at  this 
nuptial  scene  is  indicative  of  the  very  genius  and  spirit  of 
his  mission,  in  its  relations  to  social  life.  lie  came  not  to 
destroy,  but  to  save.  He  came  not  as  the  communist, 
to  disorganize  the  social  elements;  nor  as  the  gloomy 
ascetic,  to  frown  upon  the  innocent  joys  of  life.  But  to 
consecrate  the  domestic  constitution ;  for  in  the  bosom 
of  this  primal  union  lay  the  germ  of  the  great  genealo- 
gical tree  of  the  human  race.  To  infuse  a  spirit  of  purity 
into  the  hidden  recesses  of  social  existence,  and  thus  to 
sanctify  the  very  heart  of  society ;  to  hallow  human  life, 
and  sweeten  human  joy,  by  comminglin.sr  with  all  life  that 


THE    BRIDAL-SCENE.  113 

richest  ingredient  of  human  happiness,  a  sense  of  God's 
approving  love,  a  consciousness  of  the  divine  benediction ; 
so  that  we  may  realize  at  home  and  abroad,  and  every- 
where, that  wisdom's  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and 
all  her  paths  are  paths  of  peace. 

With  these  Christian  aspects  of  marriage,  founded  in 
Eden,  and  consecrated  anew  at  Cana,  we  take  this  nuptial 
home-scene  as  suggestive  of  the  following  topics,  embracing 
everything  essential  to  a  practical  view  of  the  whole  sub- 
ject, viz:  —  Tlie  Py-ellminaries  of  Marriage  —  the  Cere- 
monial—  and  the  Wedded  Home-life, 


STEPS  TO  THE  MARRIAGE  ALTAR. 

"Youth  longeth  for  a  kindred  spirit,  and  yearneth  for  a  heart,  that 
can  commune  with  his  own  ; 
He  meditateth  night  and  day,  doting  on  the  image  of  his  fancy/' 

TUPPER. 

Few  events  of  life  enfold  such  germs  of  good  or  evil, 
for  time  and  eternity,  as  marriage.  There  is  no  personal 
act,  save  one,  more  solemn,  or  which  more  deeply  involves 
human  happiness  and  destiny.  And  yet  it  is  obvious,  from 
the  current  tone  of  conversation  on  this  topic,  and  the 
accustomed  frivolity  with  which  it  is  viewed,  that  the 
serious  aspect  of  the  subject  is  rarely  considered.  How 
sportively  and  inconsiderately,  often,  are  its  relations 
assumed  !  from  what  varied  impulses  of  passion  or  selfish- 
ness, or  even  from  some  whim  of  fancy  !  Sometimes,  from 
10* 


114  c  A  N  A ;    on, 

mercenary  motives,  when  the  best  heart-affections  arc  bar- 
tered for  gold.  Sometimes  for  show  and  pageantry,  when 
pride  is  joined  to  vanity,  and  the  lips  utter  vows  of 
affection  and  fidelity,  which  the  heart  can  never  ratify. 
Sometimes  from  a  mere  sentimental  love,  that  is  as  tran- 
sient as  youth,  and  superficial  as  beauty.  Who  does  not 
know,  that  hundreds  assume  this  most  sacred  relation  of 
life  from  motives  thus  sordid  and  frivolous  ?  And  yet 
those  pledges  are  coined  into  imperishable  vows.  They 
bind,  not  for  a  passing  companionship,  but  for  the  solemn 
issues  of  life.  Not  merely  for  the  sunshine  of  the  nuptial 
festivity,  but  for  life  —  for  long  years,  it  may  be,  of  sha- 
dow and  storm  —  seasons  of  trial  and  adversities,  and  the 
unknown  alternations  of  the  future  —  until  death  breaks  the 
tie  that  "man  may  not  put  asunder." 

It  is  obvious,  that  whatever  may  be  the  prevalent  in- 
considerateness  upon  this  subject,  there  is  no  act  of  life 
which  the  young  should  contemplate  with  more  calm  and 
prayerful  consideration  than  marriage.  A  union  which 
involves  the  whole  future  of  earthly  life  —  imparting  to  it 
the  purest  joy,  or  imposing  a  lasting  sorrow,  from  which 
there  is  no  refuge  but  the  grave  —  yea,  affecting  in  many 
cases  the  destiny  of  the  soul  beyond  the  grave,  reflecting 
its  light  or  projecting  its  shadow  along  the  boundless 
future  —  should  be  seriously  considered. 

Let  those  who  are  contemplating  such  a  union,  look 
well  and  devoutly  to  the  steps  which  conduct  to  the 
marriage  altar.     "A  pernicious  sentimentalism  has  gar- 


THE    BRIDAL-SCENE.  115 

nished  the  vestibule  of  marriage  with  flowers,  and  thrown 
it  open  in  a  vista  of  amber  light."  Let  them,  therefore, 
look  forward  to  this  union  with  the  clear  vision  of  a 
thoughtful  mind,  and  ask  for  direction  from  above,  for, 
"a  prudent  wife  is  from  the  Lord," — and,  "Whoso  findeth 
a  wife  findeth  a  good  thing,  and  obtaineth  favor  of  the 
Lord." 

Let  there  be  a  calm,  deliberative  view  of  this  union, 
and  the  object  of  jour  choice,  before  the  reason  is  swayed 
and  the  heart  becomes  delirious  with  passionate  attach- 
ment. It  is  then  too  late  for  consideration.  Passion  is 
strong  in  a  youthful  heart ;  it  is  often  delirious — mad  !  It 
blinds  the  judgment,  bewilders  the  imagination,  and  capti- 
vates the  reason.  Before  the  heart  is  enthralled  by  some 
selected  object,  is  the  time  for  the  exercise  of  a  dispas- 
sionate judgment.  And  much  of  the  infelicity  in  the 
wedded  life  is  attributable  to  precipitancy  and  a  want  of 
considerateness,  before  assuming  the  duties  of  this  sacred 
relation.  "Alas  !  many  an  enamored  pair  have  courted 
in  poetry,  and  after  marriage  lived  in  prose." 

Ponder  well  the  momentous  import  of  this  life-relation. 
And  with  a  view  of  giving  direction  to  your  thoughts, 
allow  me  to  offer  some  suggestions,  both  precautionary 
and  advisory. 

And  our  first  suggestions  are  precautionary  and  relate  to 


116  CAN  a;  or, 

YOUTHFUL  LOVE  AND  COURTSHIP. 

**  There  is  a  fragrant  blossom  that  makcth  glad  the  garden  of  the 
heart." 

What  strange  and  indefinable  emotions  thrill  the  heart, 
in  the  first  glow  and  consciousness  of  youthful  love ! 
How  it  flushes  the  w^hole  future  with  its  golden  light ;  and, 
however  that  light  may  be  tinged  and  refracted  by  earthly 
exhalations,  it  gradually  and  insensibly  forms  itself  into 
an  aureola  around  some  elect  countenance  which  guides 
to  the  choice  for  life. 

We  forbear  an  elaborate  analysis  of  this  ecstatic  feeling, 
lest  we  should  be  betrayed  into  mere  sentimentalism  on 
the  one  hand,  or  metaphysical  abstraction  on  the  other. 

It  is  a  sentiment  more  than  filial  or  parental  love,  more 
than  brotherhood,  more  than  the  holiest  friendship — a 
love  for  which  we  have  no  adequate  expression,  which  at 
once  fascinates  by  natural  affinities  and  controls  our  whole 
being  as  with  the  sanctity  and  power  of  religion.  But  if 
it  eludes  all  analysis  and  baffles  all  forms  of  expression,  it 
is  a  sentiment  which  has  thrilled  in  every  heart  that 
deserves  the  name,  and  is  therefore  known  by  universal 
experience ;  and  thus,  what  is  too  subtle  for  words,  is 
adequately  defined  in  our  consciousness.     For, 

"  In  joyous  youth,  what  soul  hath  never  known, 
Thought,  feeling,  taste,  harmonious  to  its  own? 
*  *  ^  -x-  -x- 

Who  hath  not  own'd,  with  rapture-smitten  frame, 
The  power  of  grace,  the  magic  of  a  name  ? " 


THE    BRIDAL-SCENE.  117 

Yes,  all  have  felt,  or  now  feel,  this  ecstacy  of  early 
love  —  "this  sweet  idolatry,  enslaving  all  the  soul." 

From  the  very  novelty  of  this  feeling,  as  it  first  glows 
in  the  youthful  mind,  bewildering  the  other  faculties,  as 
well  as  from  romantic  notions  derived  from  works  of  fiction, 
there  is  great  danger  of  taking  the  initial  steps  to  the 
altar  from  mere  spontaneity,  or  the  impulse  of  youthful 
passion. 

Our  first  suggestion  upon  this  delicate  point,  is  one  of 
precaution. 

1.  Beware  of  entertaining  false  notions  of  this  early 
love,  or  mere  ideal  dreams  of  married  life. 

*'  Take  heed  that  what  charmeth  thee  is  real,  nor  springeth  of  thino 
imagination ; 
And  suffer  not  trifles  to  win  thy  love ;  for  a  wife  is  thine  unto 
death.'' 

Many  of  the  young  indulge  in  the  most  nonsensical 
notions  concerning  love.  Their  ideas,  derived  from  the 
current  fiction,  or  from  their  own  prurient  fancies,  lead 
them  to  discard  reason  and  deliberation,  as  having  nothing 
to  do  in  love  afiairs.  It  is  all  a  matter  of  fancy,  and  sen- 
timentalism,  and  spontaneity  —  in  which  judgment  must  be 
abjured,  and  with  which  parental  counsel,  and  even  a 
mother's  tears,  must  not  interfere.  These  ideas  are 
romantic  and  fallacious,  and  often  precipitate  the  subjects 
into  a  union  of  utter  wretchedness,  from  which  there  is  no 
refige  but  the  grave.  Be  assured,  that  pure  affection  is 
founded  upon  esteem,  and  is  therefore  under  the  control 


118  CAN  a;    on, 

of  reason.     It  is  not  a  mere  sentiment,  or  ideality,  much 
less  frenzy  of  passion,  the  meanness  of  desire  — 

"For  Love  is  no  more  such,  than  soraphs'  hymns  are  discord; 
And  such  is  no  more  love,  than  Etna's  breath  is  summer." 

And  to  follow  tlie  blind  impulse  of  passion  is  to  be  lured, 

by  the  winning  song  of  the  syren,  into  a  dream-land  of 

folly ;  and  to  awake  from  the  delirious  dream,  only  to  mourn, 

disconsolate,  amid  the  ruin  of  your  perished  hopes.     Listen 

not  to  the  voice  of  passion.     Heed  the  suggestions  of  your 

reason.     Keep  the  precious  love  of  your  young  heart,  until 

you  find  an  object  worthy  of  it ;  and  if  no  such  object  be 

found,  then  let  it  remain  in  your  own  heart,  reserved  for 

heaven  alone. 

"In  passion's  flame 
Hearts  melt,  but  melt  like  ice,  soon  harder  froze. 
True  love  strikes  root  in  reason." 

2.  Equally  fallacious  are  the  expectations  of  marriage 
derived  from  flippant  conversation,  sentimental  tales,  and 
youthful  fancies.  Those  Avhose  ideas  are  formed  in  such 
schools,  look  to  the  married  life  through  a  rose-colored 
atmosphere.  In  the  vision  of  their  youthful  fancy,  it 
seems  like  a  bright  May-day  of  unclouded  felicity,  where 
the  golden  years  dance  in  bridal  hours. 

"Thus,  in  the  desert's  dreary  -vvaste. 
By  magic  power  produced  in  haste. 

As  old  romances  say, 
Castles  and  groves,  and  music  sweet, 
The  senses  of  the  trav'ler  cheat, 

And  stop  him  in  his  way. 


THE     BRIDAL-SCENE.  119 

But  while  he  gazes  with  surprise, 
The  charm  dissolves,  the  vision  dies: 
'Twas  but  enchanted  ground." 

Thus  witli  time  dissolve  these  ideal  visions  of  marriage, 
like  the  airy  fabric  of  the  fancy,  and  leave  the  youthful 
dreamer  to  bitter  disappointment,  and  years  of  lingering 
dullness  and  infelicity. 

This  leads  me  to  offer  some  suggestions — 

ADVISORY. 

"  Seek  a  good  wife  of  thy  God,  for  she  is  the  best  gift  of  his 
providence." 

Learn  first  of  all  to  view  marriage  in  the  sober  aspect 
of  duty,  with  a  mind  wisely  forecasting  its  contingencies, 
and  a  heart  consecrated  to  all  its  obligations.  And  let 
the  thought,  that  the  prospective  union  is  for  life,  check 
the  ardor  of  youthful  impulse,  and  sober  as  well  as  chasten 
the  wild  dreams  of  the  fancy.  Let  it  be  viewed  as  com- 
passing the  whole  future,  and  affecting  by  a  necessary 
implication,  every  phase  of  earthly  happiness.  And  let 
every  initiatory  step  be  taken  in  the  calm  light  of  reason, 
and  under  the  guidance  and  sanctions  of  religion. 

'' Marriage  should  in  every  instance  be  formed  upon 
the  basis  of  mutual  attachment." 

Rightly  viewed,  it  is  not  merely  a  union  of  persons,  but 
of  kindred  minds  and  hearts.  Its  physical  aspects,  how- 
ever essential,  derive  their  sanctity  from  the  spiritual 
affinity  existing  oetween  the  parties.     So  that  the  relation 


120  C  A  N  A  ;     OR, 

assume!  without  tliis  mutual    affection  is  defilement  and 
sill,  and  must  end  in  mutual  repulsion. 

1.  Let  those,  therefore,  who  contemplate  this  union,  be 
certified  that  they  arc  prompted  by  genuine  affection. 
Let  there  be  no  taint  in  this  affection,  —  no  mercenary 
traffic  in  the  sanctuary  of  the  heart,  more  sacred  than  the 
temple-courts.  Sad,  indeed,  will  be  the  experience  of 
those  who  play  the  Judas,  and  barter  their  hearts  for 
pieces  of  silver. 

"  Such  marriage  unions  as  calculating  parents  some- 
times plan  from  mercenary  motives,  have  been  the  bane 
and  curse  of  many  a  family  for  successive  generations. 
The  springs  of  social  life  are  poisoned  by  the  moral 
malaria  that  hangs  murkily  around  the  abodes  of  those 
who  are  the  victims  of  such  heartless  schemes.  For, 
although  equality  of  rank,  fortune,  and  position,  may  have 
its  advantages,  these  are  all  lighter  than  the  small  dust 
of  the  balance  when  weighed  against  those  qualities  of 
character  which  form  the  basis  of  a  real  and  permanent 
union.   * 

Beware  also,  of  forming  an  attachment  simply  on  the 
ground  of  physical  beauty.  This  would  be  falling  in  love 
with  a  doll  or  a  picture.  We  cannot  be  wholly  indifferent 
to  the  charms  of  personal  beauty.  Nor  ought  we  to  be 
unaffected  by  external  attractions.  For  if  there  be  any 
thing  in  the  exterior  which  excites  repulsion,  the  banns 
are  interdicted  by  the  voice  of  nature. 
*  Dr.  Ilague. 


THE    BRIDAL-SCENE.  121 

**  Affect  not  to  despise  beauty  ;  no  one  is  freed  from  its  dominion : 
But  regard  it  not  as  a  pearl  of  price;  —  it  is  fleeting  as  the  bow 
in  the  clouds." 

True  beauty  is  something  more  than  a  pretty  face, 
elegance  of  form,  or  grace  of  manners.  It  has  not  only 
a  form  but  a  spirit — a  beauty  we  must  know,  to  appreciate 
—  a  beauty  which  gleams  from  a  thoughtful  mind,  and  a 
pure  and  loving  heart ;  and  which  bespeaks  for  the  owner 
a  soul.  This  will  impart  beauty  to  the  homeliest  face. 
It  was  the  valorous  soul  of  the  swarthy  Moor,  that  capti- 
vated the  gentle  and  confiding  Desdemona ;  who  apologized 
for  her  love,  by  saying :  — 

"  I  saw  Othello's  visage  m  his  mind.'' 

This  beauty  of  mind  and  heart,  never  fades — "  possessing 
charms  beyond  the  fascinating  Egyptian,  for  which  Antony 
paid  the  bauble  of  the  world  —  a  beauty  like  the  rising  of 
his  own  Italian  suns,  always  enchanting,  never  the  same." 
True  affection  can  be  permanent,  only,  when  inspired 
by  the  enduring  elements  of  moral  beauty  —  and  an 
attachment  thus  formed  is  likely  to  survive  the  charms  of 
novelty,  and  the  spoliating  touch  of  time.  Whereas  an 
attachment,  based  merely  on  exterior  grace  of  form  and 
beauty,  is  little  more  than  fancy  or  passion's  fine  phrenzy, 
and  will  soon  pass  away,  leaving  the  unhappy  victims  to  a 
wedded  life,  without  affectional  unity ;  —  leaving  them  to 
the  bitter  experience,  that  they  have  taken  a  gaudy  but 
scentless  flower  to  their  bosom,  with  no  spiritual  fragrance 
to  gladden  the  heart  or  beautify  the  home. 
11 


122  CAN  a;    OR, 

2.  Let  mc  urge  witli  emphasis^  that  irue-love  is  fnnrla- 
mcntal  to  the  marriage  relution.  If  the  parties  antici- 
pating such  a  union,  are  not  conscious  of  a  pure,  intense, 
mutual  attachment,  then,  for  them,  "it  is  not  good  to 
marry." 

Without  this  natural  affinity  —  this  mutual  love  —  it  is 
a  perilous  experiment  to  assume  the  marriage  vow.  For 
nothing  can  be  more  tormenting  than  to  be  held  in  re- 
pulsive contiguity  by  a  legal  bond,  where  there  is  no  affec- 
tional  sympathy — subject  to  a  forced  companionship,  and 
the  constant  collision  of  characters  that  have  no  mutual 
adjustment. 

There  are  many  prudential  considerations  that  are  not 
to  be  overlooked,  such  as  relate  to  a  reasonable  prospect 
of  competency,  an  approximate  similarity  in  tastes,  rank, 
and  age ;  but  first  of  all,  be  assured  that  you  truly  love 
the  object  to  whom  you  are  about  to  pledge  your  heart 
and  hand.  Be  careful,  that  you  are  prompted,  not  by  a 
mere  sentimental  fancy,  or  the  blindness  of  passion,  but 
by  genuine  affection :  an  affection  begun  in  friendship. 
For  friendship  and  love  must  unite  to  form  a  happy 
married  union ;  and  by  friendship  we  mean  an  affection 
arising  from  pure  sympathy  of  spirit.  True  affection 
becins  in  esteem,  founded  on  certain  moral  excellencies  in 
the  person;  this  esteem  warms  into  genial  and  kindred 
friendship,  which  finally  culminates  into  love.  Thus, 
"  friendship  founded  in  natural,  unforced  sympathy,  and 
growing  by  the  waters  of  immortality,  becomes  the  central 


THE    BRIDAL-SCENE.  123 

support,  around  which,  as  around  a  rod  of  heaven's  gold, 
th  flowers  and  fruits  of  earth's  purest  afiection,  gather 
in  graceful  clusters. 

Be  assured  that  nothing  can  compensate  for  the  want 
of  this  natural  affinity,  this  genial  love  in  wedded  life. 
You  may  have  a  home  of  palatial  grandeur,  adorned  with 
artistic  beauty,  and  surrounded  with  the  loveliest  of  natural 
scenery  —  but  without  love  all  will  be  but  a  dreary  waste, 
a  burnished  misery,  a  grievous  mockery,  and  in  the  utter 
desperation  of  your  wedded  and  life-long  misery,  your 
sad  heart  will  be  heard  to  sigh,  "Is  it  for  these  glittering 
baubles  I  have  bartered  away  my  heart,  myself,  my 
earthly  happiness  ?"  But  alas,  for  this  folly  and  its  con- 
sequent wretchedness,  there  is  no  remedy  and  no  refuge 
but  the  grave.  By  all  the  instinctive  recoil  of  your  nature 
from  such  a  prospect,  and  by  all  the  yearnings  of  the  heart 
for  genial  sympathy  and  a  happy  home,  peaceful  in  the 
sunlight  of  affection,  do  not  enter  the  married  state  unless 
drawn  by  the  solicitations  of  a  pure  and  virtuous  love  —  a 
love  that  will  foster  the  tender  sensibilities  of  the  heart, 
and  secure  a  companionship  that  becomes  more  beautiful 
as  the  dreams  of  youth  pass  away ;  a  companionship  made 
genial  by  prosperity  and  strengthened  by  suffering;  a 
companionship  that  will  sweeten  the  coarsest  fare,  and 
cheer  the  humblest  home — suffusing  life's  evening  twilight 
with  the  joy  that  gladdened  the  bridal  morn. 

3.  Finally,  do  not  exclude  religious  considerations  ia 
forming  this  most  sacred  compact.     A  Christian   should 


124  CAN  a;   or, 

marry  "  only  in  the  Lord."  Both  reason  and  Scripture 
protest  against  the  union  of  a  believer  with  an  unbeliever. 
For,  "  how  can  two  walk  together  except  they  be  agreed  ?" 
No  considerate  person  should  hazard  a  union  where  there 
is  a  want  of  affinity  and  sympathy,  upon  a  point  so  vital 
and  rudimental  to  the  very  existence  of  the  household. 
How  can  such  a  union  meet  the  great  moral  reason  as- 
signed in  the  Bible  for  the  marriage  relation,  viz  : — "That 
he  might  seek  a  godly  seed!"  How  can  the  great  work 
of  home  education  be  conducted  with  success,  and  the 
children  be  trained  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the 
Lord,  without  religious  unity  and  co-operation  on  the  part 
of  the  parents  ? 

The  injunction  to  "  marry  only  in  the  Lord,"  is  not 
merely  advisory,  but  a  statutory  provision,  and  binds  the 
conscience  with  all  the  obligations  and  sanctions  of  a 
divine  law.  For  a  Christian,  then,  to  marry  an  unbeliever, 
is  a  direct  violation  of  the  law  of  God.  How  can  a 
Christian  invoke  the  divine  blessing  upon  such  a  union  ? 
And  how  can  believers  peril  their  happiness  in  this  world, 
and  their  salvation  in  the  next,  by  associating  with  them- 
selves, in  the  nearest  of  all  earthly  relations,  those  who, 
in  place  of  facilitating  their  progress  in  the  divine  life, 
must,  to  say  the  least,  trammel  their  religious  eflforts,  and 
obstruct  their  heaven-ward  course.  With  all  solemnity 
and  earnestness,  would  we  urge  upon  Christians  to  "  marry 
only  in  the  Lord." 


THE    BRIDAL-SCENE.  125 

'  Let  her  be  a  child  of  God,  that  she  bring  with  her  a  blessing  to 

thy  house — 
A  blessing  above  riches,  and  leading  contentment  in  its  train ; 
Let  her  be  an  heir  of  heaven  ;  so  shall  she  help  thee  on  thy  way : 
For  those  who  are  one  in'  faith,  fio-ht  double-handed  against  evil." 


The  following  poetical  picture  from  Pollok,  is  a  beautiful 
representation  of  youthful  love  in  its  purity  and  intensity, 
seeking  heaven's  guidance  and  benediction  :  — 

Such  Avas  the  night,  so  lovely,  still,  serene, 
When,  by  a  hermit  thorn  that  on  the  hill 
Had  seen  a  hundred  flowery  ages  pass 
A  damsel  kneeled  to  offer  up  her  prayer, 
Iler  prayer  nightly  offered,  nightly  heard. 
This  ancient  thorn  had  been  the  meeting  place 
Of  love,  before  his  country's  voice  had  called 
The  ardent  youth  to  fields  of  honor  far 
Beyond  the  wave:  and  hither  now  repaired, 
Nightly,  the  maid,  by  God's  all-seeing  eye 
Seen  only,  while  she  sought  this  boon  alone, 
"Her  lover's  safety,  and  his  quick  return/' 
In  holy,  humble  attitude  she  kneeled. 
And  to  her  bosom,  fair  as  moonbeam,  pressed 
One  hand,  the  other  lifted  up  to  heaven. 
Her  eye,  upturned,  bright  as  the  star  of  morn, 
As  violet  meek,  excessive  ardor  streamed, 
"Wafting  away  her  earnest  heart  to  God. 
Her  voice,  scarce  uttered,  soft  as  Zephyr  sighs 
On  morning  lily's  cheek,  though  soft  and  low, 
Yet  heard  in  heaven,  heard  at  the  mercy-seat. 
A  tear-drop  wandered  on  her  lovely  face ; 
It  was  a  tear  of  faith  and  holy  fear, 
Pure  as  the   drops  that  hang  at  dawning-time, 
On  yonder  willows  by  the  stream  of  life. 

11* 


126  cana;    or, 

On  her  the  Moon  looked  steadfastly;  the  Stars, 
That  circle  nightly  round  the  eternal  Throne, 
Glanced  down,  -well  pleased  ;  and  Everlasting  Lovo 
Gave  gracious  audience  to  her  prayer  sincere. 


Oh,  had  her  lover  seen  her  thus  alone. 
Thus  holy,  wrestling  thus,  and  all  for  him ! 
Nor  did  he  not:  for  oft-times  Providence, 
With  unexpected  joy  the  fervent  prayer 
Of  faith  surprised.     Returned  from  long  delay, 
With  glory  crowned  of  righteous  actions  won. 
The  sacred  thorn,  to  memory  dear,  first  sought 
The  youth,  and  found  it  at  the  happy  hour. 
Just  when  the  damsel  kneeled  herself  to  pray. 
Wrapped  in  devotion,  pleading  with  her  God, 
She  saw  him  not,  heard  not  his  foot  approach. 
All  holy  images  seemed  too  impure 
To  emblem  her  he  saw.     A  seraph  kneeled, 
Beseeching  for  his  ward,  before  the  Throne, 
Seemed  fittest,  pleased  him  best.     Sweet  was  the  thought  I 
But  sweeter  still  the  kind  remembrance  came. 
That  she  was  flesh  and  blood,  formed  for  himself, 
The  plighted  partner  of  his  future  life. 
And  as  they  met,  embraced,  and  sat,  embowered, 
In  woody  chambers  of  the  starry  night, 
Spirits  of  love  about  them  ministered. 
And  God,  approving,  blessed  the  holy  joy! 


THE    BRIDAL-SCENE.  127 

II. 

THE   BRIDAL   CEREMONIAL. 

"Joy,  serious  and  sublime, 
Such  as  doth  nerve  the  energies  of  prayer, 
Should  swell  the  bosom,  when  a  maiden's  hand 
Filled  with  life's  dewy  flowerets,  girdeth  on 
That  harness  which  the  ministry  of  death 
Alone  unlooseth,  but  whose  fearful  power 
May  stamp  the  sentence  of  Eternity." 

Mrs.  Sigourney. 

"  It  is  not  possible  for  the  hearts  of  husband  and  wife  to  blend 
permanently  on  any  lower  level  than  the  altar  of  God." 

MOUNTFORD. 

This  is  usually,  as  it  ought  to  be,  a  time  of  joy  and 
social  congratulation.  It  is  the  jubilee  of  the  affections, 
the  consummation  of  fondest  hopes,  the  crowning  of  the 
pledged  union  with  the  seal  and  sanctity  of  religion.  As 
at  Cana,  Jesus  should  be  an  invited  guest  at  every  wed- 
ding; that  his  presence  may  hallow  and  beautify  the 
matrimonial  vow  —  chasten  and  sanctify  connubial  love. 
"It  is  the  worst  clandestine  marriage,"  said  old  Thomas 
Fuller,  "  when  God  is  not  invited  to  it ;  wherefore,  before- 
hand beg  his  gracious  assistance."  Marriage  is  not  merely 
a  civil  contract,  but  a  divine  institution,  and  should  be  rati- 
fied by  religious  as  well  as  legal  sanctions.  It  may  be  legal 
to  be  married  by  a  magistrate,  but  such  a  marriage  is  with- 
out the  divine  seal,  and  lacks,  in  our  view,  the  most  sacred 
ratification.  As  a  spiritual,  a  divine  ordinance  —  "the 
symbol  of  dignity  and  glory" — the  sacred  union  should 


128  CAN  a;    or, 

be  consummated  by  the  ceremonial  and  sanction  of  religion, 
and  consecrated  by  prayer. 

*'  Let  the  day  of  hopes  fulfilled  be  blest  by  many  prayers    .  .  . 
And  at  eventide  kneel  ye   together,    that  your  joy  bo  not  un- 
hallowed." 

In  no  act  of  human  life  should  one  more  earnestly  seek 
the  guidance  and  blessing  of  God.  Never  should  the 
duty  —  with  the  promise,  "  Commit  thy  way  unto  Him, 
and  He  will  direct  thy  paths"  —  bo  more  intensely  realized 
than  at  the  marriage  altar.  In  no  transaction  should  we 
more  earnestly  solicit  the  Saviour's  presence  and  blessing, 
than  when  consummating  a  union  which  so  deeply  aftects 
the  whole  life.  What  responsibilities,  what  thrilling 
destinies,  are  crowded  in  that  moment,  which  sets  the 
inviolable  seal  of  heaven  upon  the  pledged  union,  and 
makes  it  one  for  life  !  0  when,  if  not  then,  should  we 
invoke  the  presence  of  Jesus !  Where,  if  not  at  that 
altar,  should  hearts  tremulous  with  emotions  of  undefined 
hopes  and  fears,  look,  but  to  Him  whose  glory  dawned  in 
a  nuptial  benediction  upon  the  married  couple  in  Cana ! 

This  bridal-scene  encourages  you  to  invite  the  Saviour 
to  your  marriage.  Make  Him  one  of  your  guests.  Do 
not  consummate  a  transaction  so  momentous  without 
making  Christ  your  Friend  and  Counsellor.  Send  to 
Him  by  special  prayer,  and,  with  your  selected  and 
future  companion,  say  to  Him,  "If  Thy  presence  go  not 
with  us,  carry  us  not  up  hence." 

And  be  assured,  if  earnestly  solicited,  the  Saviour  will 


THE    BRIDAL-SCENE.  129 

come,  as  of  old  to  Cana,  and  by  His  presence  beautify 
and  bless  your  bridal  hour.  It  was  his  special  interest  in 
the  marriage  institution  that  directed  his  footsteps  to  that 
sequestered  hamlet  in  Galilee.  His  presence  at  that 
humble  wedding,  and  the  outflashing  of  His  divine  glory 
in  the  miracle,  were  designed  to  honor  and  consecrate  the 
union  which  founds  the  family,  and  is  instrumentally  con- 
nected with  every  social  and  moral  good. 

He,  who,  as  Creator,  gave  a  companion  to  man  in 
Paradise,  and  ordained  the  marriage  relation,  renewed  its 
consecration  by  his  presence  and  miracle  at  Cana  of 
Galilee.  He  is  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever, 
and  therefore,  feels  the  same  interest  in  your  marriage ; 
and  if  invited,  will  be  present,  not  personally  as  at 
Cana,  but  spiritually  and  iufluentially,  to  hallow  your 
union,  sanctify  your  joy,  and  leave  his  benediction  upon 
your  hearts  —  to  perpetuate  the  love,  and  fulfil  the  hopes 
of  your  bridal-day.     And, 

**  Angels  that  are  round  you  shall  be  glad,  those  loving  ministers  of 

mercy, 
And  the  richest  blessings  of  your  God,  shall  be  poured  on  his 

favoured  children." 

III. 

THE   NEW  HOME. 

"0  happy  lot,  and  hallowed,  even  as  the  joy  of  angels, 
Where  the  golden  chain  of  godliness  is  entwined  with  the  roses  of 
love.'' 

If  it  was  important  to  have  Jesus  at  the  wedding,  it  is 

equally  so   to   retain  his   presence   in   the  newly-formed 


130  C  A  N  A  ;    OR, 

home.  Those  who  sought  his  Messing  at  the  marriage- 
altar,  shouUi  seek  to  extend  the  benediction  to  the  young 
household.  Without  the  presence  of  the  Saviour,  no 
family  can  maintain  the  true  conjugal  life,  viewed  in  its 
original  constitution  —  grounded  in  the  favor  of  God, 
"  embracing  all  the  members  of  the  family  in  its  expand- 
ing circle,  and  furnishing  an  exhaustless  spring  of  joy,  in 
the  unselfish  aspirations  of  each  for  the  other,  towards 
the  Source  of  all  happiness.  Even  the  ardor  of  youthful 
love,  that  gives  the  marriage-pledge,  cannot  retain  its 
beauty,  its  purity,  or  its  power,  unless  it  is  ever  relumed 
and  vivified,  by  Him  who  is  the  light  and  life  of  the 
world.  The  faith  of  heart  in  heart  will  languish  and  die 
Avithout  faith  in  God. 

Among  the  very  first  things  to  be  done  in  the  beginning 
of  your  domestic  life,  is  to  erect  the  altar  of  prayer,  and 
together  invoke  the  presence  and  blessing  of  Jesus,  to 
consecrate  your  new  home. 

"Bride    and    bridegroom,    pilgrims   of   life,    henceforth    to   travel 

together, 
In  this  the  beginning  of  your  journey,  neglect  not  the  favor  of 

heaven." 

As  the  family  altar  and  other  phases  of  the  religious 
home  will  be  considered  in  another  chapter,  we  shall  now 
advert  merely  to  the  relative  duties  and  ruling  sentiment 
of  the  conjugal  life. 

The  Christian  idea  of  the  conjugal  relation  is  that 
Fiven  by  Paul,  (Ephes.  v.  22-33,)  in  his  representation  of 


TIIK     BRIDAL-SCENE.  IGl 

the  union,  as  a  type  or  symbol  of  the  intimate  and 
endearing  relation  subsisting  between  Christ  and  his 
Church.  This  gives  to  the  relation  a  peculiar  honor  and 
sanctity  —  investing  it  with  something  of  a  sacramental 
mystery  and  significance  :  — 

"  Wives,  submit  yourselves  unto  your  own  husbands  as 
unto  the  Lord.  For  the  husband  is  the  head  of  the  wife, 
even  as  Christ  is  the  head  of  the  church ; 

"  Husbands,  love  your  wives,  even  as  Christ  also  loved 
the  Church,  and  gave  himself  for  it." 

In  this  comprehensive  analogy,  we  have  both  the  nature 
of  the  relation  and  the  mutual  duties  which  it  imposes. 
The  husband  is  the  head  of  the  wife,  her  lord  and  ruler. 
The  wife  is  subordinated  to  the  husband,  as  the  Church 
to  the  Lord.  But  in  her  case  it  is  not  a  servile,  irre- 
sponsible subordination.  The  duty  of  mutual  love, 
precludes  all  abuse  and  degradation  of  such  a  relation  of 
headship  and  corresponding  subordination.  It  will  preclude 
all  unreasonable  or  despotic  exactions  on  the  one  hand  — 
and  every  feeling  of  servility  and  conscious  inferiority  on 
the  other.  In  accordance  with  this  relation,  the  Apostle, 
in  the  conclusion  of  the  chapter,  gives  a  comprehensive 
summary  of  the  relative  duties  of  the  conjugal  union. 

"Nevertheless,  let  every  one  of  you  in  particular,  so 
love  his  wife  even  as  himself:  and  the  wife  see  that  she 
reverence  her  husband." 

1.  The  marriage  union  is  fundamentally  one  of  Love. 
And  only  by  mutual  love  can  there  be  any  fulfilment  of 


132  C  A  N  A  ;     OR, 

its  oLligation?.  Tlioiv'^li  love,  for  obvious  reasons,  is  es- 
pecially enjoined  on  the  husband,  it  belongs  equally  to 
the  wife.  For,  unless  it  be  mutual,  as  already  suggested, 
there  can  be  no  conjugal  happiness.  Assuming  that  the 
parties  were  prompted  by  love  in  the  formation  of  their 
wedded  union,  every  thing  should  be  done  to  deepen  and 
confirm  the  afi*ection  which  first  breathed  in  the  words  of 
their  espousals,  and  then  uttered  the  imperishable  vows  at 
the  altar. 

Where  the  marriage  is  one  of  afi'ection,  the  most  critical 
period  is  in  the  beginning  of  the  wedded  life.  "  The 
mutual  affection,"  says  Dr.  Spring,  "  of  a  young  married 
pair,  if  not  seriously  disturbed  in  the  earlier  years  of  its 
existence,  is  not  often  disturbed  when  that  affection  is 
matured  by  time,  and  cemented  by  the  same  habits  and 
interests." 

It  is  therefore,  of  the  utmost  moment,  in  these  earlier 
years,  to  guard  against  every  thing  that  might  disturb  the 
delicate  harmony  and  finely-toned  sympathies  of  wedded 
love,  and  by  every  suitable  means  to  foster  the  youthful 
attachment,  until  it  is  matured  and  consolidated,  and  they 
can  walk  together  through  earth's  sunshine  and  storm, 
loved  and  loving  one  another. 

WEDDED   LOVE. 

There  is  more  or  less  of  romance  and  sentimentalism 
in  all  youthful  affection.  To  their  joyous  vision  the  future 
seems  an  Elysian  land,  through  which  they  will  always 


THE     BRIDAL -SCENE.  133 

walk  amid  flowers,  or  repose  in  bowers  of  peace,  and 
listen  to  the  music  of  the  birds  of  paradise.  This  is  a 
natural  and  it  may  be  an  innocent  illusion.  And  yet  the 
future  will  come  to  most  with  overshadowing  clouds,  with 
stern  trials,  and  multiform  cares,  and  common-place 
duties.  And  then,  as  the  youthful  dreamers  waken  to  the 
realities  of  married  life,  and  discover  that  the  angel  of 
their  youthful  love,  though  beautiful,  is  a  fallen  angel,  and 
the  paradise  of  their  early  dreams  is  paradise  lost ;  they 
will  go  out  from  their  ideal  Eden,  into  the  realities  of  life, 
with  something  of  the  sadness  of  the  primeval  pair,  as 
described  by  Milton  :  — 

*'  Some  natural  tears  they  dropp'd,  but  wiped  them  soon. 
They  hand  in  hand,  with  wandering  steps  and  slow, 
Through  Eden  took  their  solitary  way." 

But  if  there  be  true  affection,  it  will  not  only  survive 
this  disappointment  of  early  hopes,  but  acquire  greater 
depth  and  intensity  by  the  vanishing  away  of  all  that  was 
merely  ideal  and  fanciful.  And  the  very  trials  of  life,  by 
awakening  their  sympathies,  and  prompting  to  mutual 
kindness  and  ministries  of  love,  will  purify  and  strengthen 
the  clasping  bonds  of  affection,  and,  "  in  one  fate 

Their  heart,  their  fortune,  and  their  being  blend." 

We  need  hardly  say,  that  in  a  union  so  intimate  and 

life-long,  revealing  every  phase  of  character  and  mood  of 

temper,  there  will  be  need  of  this  sanctified  love,  which  is 

"  not  easily  provoked,  which  suffer eth  long,  and  is  kind" 

12 


134  C  A  N  A  ;    0  T^  , 

—  Avhicli  has  power  to  invest  the  being  loved  with  its  own 
beauty,  transforming  blemishes  into  imaginary  virtues. 
As  the  great  Dramatist  has  it  — 

"  My  love  doth  so  approve  him, 
That  even  his  stubborness,  his  checks,  and  frowns, 
Have  grace  and  favor  in  them." 

This  love,  purified  and  hallowed  by  religion,  is  the  very 
life  of  marriage  —  the  very  bond  of  perfcctness.  It  is  the 
fragrant  blossom,  that  will  not  only  gladden  the  heart,  but 
beautify  the  humblest  home,  with  peace  and  harmony,  and 
manifold  ministries  of  kindness  and  charity. 

"Lasting  and  knowing  not  change,  it  walketh  with  truth  and  sin- 
cerity." 

2.  If  this  mutual  love  be  cherished  and  maintained,  all 
the  other  duties  of  the  home-life  will  flow  from  it  naturally 
and  necessarily  as  the  healthy  tree  puts  forth  the  blos- 
soms and  fruits  of  summer. 

And  without  entering  into  specialities,  we  comprehend  the 
whole  range  of  conjugal  duties  in  the  one  word.  Love  — 
"  See  that  ye  love  one  another,  with  a  pure  heart  fervently." 
And  to  this  end,  cultivate  mutual  confidence  and  forbear- 
ance in  all  the  relations  and  duties  of  the  household.  Be 
careful  to  maintain  mutual  good  temper.  Some  one  says, 
there  are  moods  in  matrimony,  as  well  as  in  grammar; 
and  the  spirit  of  these  moods  is  essentially  connected  with 
the  happiness  or  misery  of  domestic  life.  Many  overlook 
this.  They  do  not  consider  how  temper  enters  into  daily 
life  —  how  it  permeates  the  whole  household  constitution  — 


THE    BRIDAL-SCENE.  135 

that  it  is  in  our  homes  and  around  our  hearths  —  that 
it  gives  sweetness  to  the  dinner  of  herbs,  or  turns  the 
most  sumptuous  fare  into  the  food  of  misery  —  that  it 
give^  peace  and  happiness  to  the  peasant's  home,  or 
turns  palatial  grandeur  into  a  gilded  mockery. 

When  any  of  the  variant  moods  of  evil  temper  prevail 
in  the  household,  they  are  destructive  of  peace  and  happi- 
ness. If  there  is  violent  temper,  passionate,  self-willed, 
intolerant ;  or  the  morose,  revealing  itself  in  haughty  con- 
tempt, or  in  cold  and  silent  indifference ;  or  the  revenge- 
ful, proud,  sensitive,  always  generating  anti-social  and 
cruel  dispositions ;  or  the  discontented,  which  nothing 
can  please,  and  nothing  satisfy,  ever  petulant  and  queru- 
lous ;  or  the  capricious,  fickle,  and  lawless,  at  one  moment 
melting  with  pity  and  the  next  flushing  with  anger  ;  —  it 
is  obvious  that  any  one  of  these  moods  of  evil  temper,  pre- 
vailing in  the  social  relations,  must  disturb  the  peace  and 
harmony  of  home. 

"Better,"  says  Solomon,  "is  a  dinner  of  herbs,  where 
love  is,  than  a  stalled  ox,  and  hatred  therewith."  Ah! 
yes,  there  is  many  a  home  where  there  is  but  little  more 
than  a  dinner  of  herbs,  which,  genial  and  loving  hearts, 
sweet  and  gentle  dispositions,  convert  into  more  than  a 
royal  palace.  And  many  a  gorgeous  mansion,  that  is  only 
a  glittering  ice-cavern  of  fretfulness  and  discontent ;  halls 
of  jangling  discord,  and  the  constant  clashing  of  evil  tem- 
pers, whilst  a  chill  of  mutual  distrust  and  severance  breathes 
through  the  sumptuous  apartments,  and  a  heartless  show 


136  C  A  N  A  ;     OR, 

presides,  like  a  robed  skeleton,  at  the  feast.     Nowhere  as 

in  the  family  should  we  so  guard  against  evil  tempers,  and 

seek,   by  divine   grace,   to  heed   the   admonition   of   the 

apostle  —  '*Lct  all  bitterness,  and  wrath,  and  anger,  and 

clamor,  and  evil  speaking,  be  put  away  from  you,  with  all 

malice.     And  be  ye  kind  one  to  another,  tender-hearted, 

forgiving  one  another,  even  as  God  for  Christ's  sake  hath 

forgiven  you."     For  as  has  been  justly  said,  there  is  no 

happiness  in  life,  there  is  no  misery,  like  that  growing  out 

of  the  dispositions  which  consecrate  or  desecrate  a  home. 

3.  Intimately  associated  with  the  affection  and  unity  of 

the  household,  is  attention  to  little  things. 

"For  slender  joys,  often  repeated,  fall  as  sunshine  on  the  heart. 
And  the  deepest  wretchedness  of  life  is  continuance  of  petty  pains.*' 

The  social  mechanism  is  most  delicately  attuned,  and  a 
"word,  a  breath,  or  look,  may  jar  the  finely-toned  sensi- 
bilities, and  render  discordant  the  music  of  home.  Indeed, 
domestic  broils  and  contentions,  mostly  originate  in  mere 
peccadillos.  This  seems  to  be  the  idea  of  Solomon,  when 
he  says,  "  The  beginning  of  strife  is  as  when  one  letteth 
out  water;  therefore  leave  off  contention,  before  it  be 
meddled  with."  This  caution  is  specially  important  in 
the  beginning  of  wedded  life,  for  reasons  already  mentioned. 

Says  Jeremy  Taylor,  ''  Man  and  wife  are  equally  con- 
cerned to  avoid  all  offences  of  each  other  at  the  beginning 
of  their  conversation.  Every  little  thing  can  blast  an 
infant  blossom,  and  the  breath  of  the  south  can  shake  the 
little  rings  of  the  vine  when  first  they  begin  to  curl  like 


THE    BRIDAL-SCENE.  187 

the  locks  of  a  new-weaned  boy :  but  when  by  age  and 
consolidation  they  stiffen  into  the  hardness  of  a  stem,  and 
have,  by  the  warm  embraces  of  the  sun  and  the  kisses  of 
heaven,  brought  forth  their  clusters,  they  can  endure  the 
storms  of  the  north,  and  the  loud  noises  of  a  tempest,  and 
yet  never  be  broken." 

The  same  precaution  against  trifles,  as  often  leading  to 
breaches  in  the  household  bonds,  is  beautifully  expressed 
by  the  Irish  poet : — 

A  something  light  as  air  —  a  look, 
A  word  unkind  or  wrongly  taken, 
The  love  that  tempests  never  shook, 
A  breath,  a  touch  like  this  has  shaken; 
And  ruder  winds  will  soon  rush  in 
To  spread  the  breach  that  words  begin; 
And  eyes  forget  the  gentle  ray 
They  wore  in  Hymen's  smiling  day ; 
And  voices  lose  the  tone  that  shed 
A  tenderness  round  all  they  said; 
Till  fast  declining,  one  by  one. 
The  sweetnesses  of  love  are  gone ; 
And  hearts,  so  lately  mingled,  seem 
Like  broken  clouds,  or  like  the  stream 
That  smiling  left  the  mountain's  brow, 
As  though  its  waters  ne'er  could  sever, 
Yet  ere  it  reach  the  plain  below 
Breaks  into  floods,  and  parts  for  ever, 

Be  careful,  therefore,  to  avoid  all  irritating  causes,  and 
by  mutual  attentions  and  nameless  kindnesses,  seek  to 
strengthen  the  bonds  of  affection,  and  make  a  Home  !  A 
place,  not  merely  to  eat  and  sleep  in  —  a  mere  refectory 
and  dormitory,  but  a  place  to  live.  Seek  to  make  it  a 
12* 


138  c ana;    OR, 

place  of  social  joy  and  attraction,  and  thus  counteract 
the  fashionable  tendency  in  our  day  to  abandon  the  home, 
and  seek  pleasures  abroad.  It  ought  to  be  a  place,  not 
only  of  sober  culture  and  wholesome  discipline,  but  of 
recreative  pleasure,  and  sparkling  joy,  and  jubilant  songs. 

"Why  should  we  fear  youth's  draught  of  joy, 
If  pure,  would  sparkle  less? 
Why  should  the  cup  the  sooner  cloy, 
Which  God  hath  deigned  to  bless  ? 

4.  But  no  marriage  relation  can  be  essentially  and 
permanently  happy  without  the  sanctifying  influence  of 
religion  —  or  speaking  with  this  pictured  scene  at  Cana 
before  us,  without  the  presence  and  benediction  of  Jesus. 

"  For  the  triple  nature  of  humanity  must  be  bound  by  a  triple 

chain, 
For  soul  and  mind  and  body — Godliness,  esteem,  and  affection." 

The  Gospel  of  Christ  must  pacify  the  heart,  sweeten 
the  temper,  and  hallow  the  affections,  or  the  union  cannot 
be  truly  felicitous.  This  will  lead  the  wedded  couple 
to  a  throne  of  grace,  to  enliven  by  prayer  their  religious 
sensibility,  which  is  the  very  fulness  and  soul  of  conjugal 
love  and  friendship.  This  not  only  enjoins,  but  inspires 
mutual  confidence,  and  matures  those  graces  that  belong 
to  wedlock's  "string  of  pearls."  This,  by  a  divine 
chemistry,  will  convert  the  very  cares  and  annoyances  of 
life  into  means  of  moral  improvement  and  mutual 
devotion.     "  The  pearl-oyster,  by  some  mysterious  secre- 


THE    BRIDAL-SCENE.  lo9 

tlon,  converts  the  fretting  grain  of  sand,  that  is  forced 
within  its  shell,  into  a  costly  gem  to  adorn  the  neck  of 
beauty."  So  the  Gospel  converts  the  very  trials  and 
irritations  of  married  life  into  those  graces  of  the  spirit, 
priceless  pearls,  to  adorn  the  domestic  union,  and  beautify 
their  home  with  salvation. 

LAST  GLANCE  AT  THE  CANA  FESTIVAL. 

"Every  man  at  the  beginning  doth  set  forth  good  wine;  and 
when  men  have  well  drunk,  then  that  which  is  worse ;  but  thou  hast 
kept  the  good  wine  until  now/' 

These  -words  of  the  governor  of  the  feast,  whilst  they 
express  literally  a  practice  of  festal  economy,  had  a  higher 
sense  and  profounder  thought  than  he  meant.  The  world 
does  indeed  give  its  "  good  wine"  first ;  but  Christ  reserves 
for  his  guests  the  good  wine  unto  the  last.  It  is  indeed 
but  the  general  principle,  that  by  the  very  condition  of 
our  being,  if  things  go  right,  a  conclusion  is  better  than  a 
beginning.  ''Better,"  says  Solomon,  "is  the  end  of  a 
thing  than  the  beginning."  It  must  be  so  in  life,  or  life 
is  an  awful  calamity.  It  must  be  so  in  the  marriage  union, 
or  that  union  will  be  a  failure  of  the  great  end  of  marriage. 
According  to  Christ  and  Paul,  the  highest  end  of  conjugal 
life  is  the  sanctlficatlon  and  moral  perfection  of  the 
character,  to  which  the  physical  object  must  be  subordinate 
and  subservient. 

But  how  shall  this  great  moral  end  be  attained?  By 
the  presence  of  Christ  in  the  household. 


140  C  A  N  A  ;  OK, 


THE  MORAL  END  OF  MARRIAGE. 

But  will  Christ  deign  to  visit  your  humble  abode? 
Look  at  this  festival  scene  at  Cana,  and  then  read  in  the 
subsequent  history  of  Christ,  "  So  Jesus  came  again  into 
Cana,  where  he  made  the  water  wine."  We  cannot  suppose, 
that  when  he  returned  to  Cana  he  failed  to  visit  the  home 
of  the  married  couple  who  had  invited  him  to  their 
wedding,  and  whose  nuptial  vows  he  had  sanctified  by  his 
presence.  Thus  Jesus,  if  honored  at  your  wedding  fes- 
tival, and  his  presence  sought  by  prayer,  will  not  disdain 
to  visit  your  married  home,  and,  as  at  Cana  of  old,  will  be 
nigh  in  every  domestic  trial  to  relieve  your  anxieties,  and 
soothe  your  sorrows,  consecrate  your  union,  and  bless 
your  infant  household. 

And  in  Christ  you  will  be  able  to  keep  the  unity  of  the 
spirit  in  the  bond  of  peace,  and  the  end  will  be  better 
than  the  beginning. 

It  is  a  great  thing  for  two  frail  natures  to  maintain  this 
moral  and  life-long  unity.  It  is  difficult  to  keep  two  harps 
in  perfect  harmony :  how  then  shall  two  harps,  each  of  a 
thousand  strings,  be  kept  in  sweet  unison  through  all  life's 
variant  moods  and  jostling  cares  ? — Only  by  being  one  in 
Christ.  Make  Him  your  abiding  guest,  who  came  to  open 
heavenly  mansions  into  our  earthly  habitations.  You 
need  him  to  keep  you  in  God  and  with  one  another.  Let 
the  atmosphere  of  the  home  have  the  fragrance  of  his 


THE    BRIDAL-SCENE.  141 

heavenly  spirit.  Then  will  you  grow  in  personal  ex- 
cellence, mutual  aflSnity,  and  spiritual  assimilation,  re- 
alizing a  peace  and  happiness  in  the  sacred  union,  of  which 
you  never  dreamed  in  your  youthful  love.  This  assimila- 
tive growth  in  the  true  Christian  marriage,  is  beautifully 
expressed  in  those  exquisite  lines  of  Tennyson :  — 

Yet  in  the  long  years  llker  must  they  grow; 

The  man  be  more  of  woman,  she  of  man : 

He  gain  in  sweetness  and  in  moral  height, 

Nor  lose  the  wrestling  thews  that  throw  the  world ; 

She  mental  breath,  nor  fail  in  childward  care : 

More  as  the  double-natured  Poet  each : 

Till  at  the  last  she  set  herself  to  man, 

Like  perfect  music  unto  noble  words ; 

And  so  these  twain,  upon  the  skirts  of  Time, 

Sit  side  by  side,  full-summed  in  all  their  powers, 

Dispensing  harvest,  sowing  the  To-be, 

Self-reverent  each  and  reverencing  each. 

Distinct  in  individualities, 

But  like  each  other  even  as  those  who  love. 

Then  comes  the  statelier  Eden  back  to  men : 

Thus  will  the  last  days  of  your  marriage  be  better  than 
the  first.  You  will  look  back  with  mutual  blessing  to  the 
hour  of  your  first  union,  conscious  that  through  all  the 
vicissitudes  of  life  you  have  endeavored  to  make  each 
other  better  and  happier ;  and  He,  who  was  present,  and 
sanctified  your  marriage  vows,  will  crown  your  union  with 
the  blessedness  of  those  who  "  are  called  to  the  marriage 
supper  of  the  Lamb." 


142  C  A  N  A  ;     0  11 ,    THE     E  11  I  D  A  L  -  S  C  E  N  E 

"  Ever  the  richest,  tenderest  glow, 
Sets  round  the  autumnal  sun  — 
But  there  sight  fails  ;  no  heart  may  know 
The  bliss  when  life  is  done. 


Such  is  thy  banquet,  dearest  Lord ; 

0  give  us  grace,  to  cast 
Our  lot  with  thine,  to  trust  thy  word. 

And  keep  our  best  till  last." 


C[iaftfr  /nurtjj. 


CORNELIUS  OF  C^SAREAj  OR, THE  FAMILY  ALTAR. 

**  There  was  a  certain  man  in  Caesarea  called  Cornelius 

A  devout  man,  and  one  that  feared  God  with  all  his  house,  who 
gave  much  alms  to  the  people,  and  prayed  to  God  always." 

"Around  each  pure,  domestic  shrine, 
Bright  flowers  of  Eden  bloom  and  twine ; 
Our  hearths  are  altars  all." 

This  home-scene  in  Caesarea,  in  its  material  aspects,  is 
one  purely  of  the  imagination,  but,  in  its  moral  features,  it 
is  fully  defined  in  our  conceptions  as  a  home  of  domestic 
piety.  With  the  sketch  of  the  sacred  penman  before  us, 
we  readily  supply  the  lights  and  shadows  which  complete 
the  moral  picture.  That  it  was  a  home  of  religious  unity, 
kindly  dispositions,  and  domestic  worship,  the  outlines 
given  by  the  sacred  writer  would  authorize  us  to  infer. 
But  the  central  fact  in  this  household,  which  imparts  a 
beauty  and  sanctity  to  the  whole  domestic  scene,  and 
which  claims  our  special  attention  in  this  chapter,  is  the 
Family  Altar.  We  picture  to  our  minds  Cornelius  as  the 
father  and  priest  of  the  family,  gathering  the  household 
round  the  domestic  altar  for  prayer  and  praise.  And  we 
therefore  take  this  home-scene  as  suggestive,  as  well  as 
illustrative  of  the  special  topic  of  family  worship.     As 

(143) 


144  CORNELIUS     OF    C  .D  S  A  Tl  E  A  ; 

preparatory  to  tlie  main  discussion,  it  may  be  well  to 
glance  at  the  religious  character  and  position  of  Cornelius, 
as  depicted  in  sacred  history. 

Cornelius,  by  birth  and  education  a  Gentile,  had  pro- 
bably enjoyed  the  light  of  revealed  religion  as  received 
and  taught  among  the  Jews.  Discarding  the  idolatry  of 
Paganism,  and  sincerely  yearning  for  the  true  religion,  he 
seems,  with  all  his  family,  to  have  "  embraced  the  mono- 
theism of  the  Jews,  and  doubtless  also  their  Messianic 
hopes."  From  several  incidents  and  allusions  in  the 
sacred  narrative,  it  is  evident  that  he  was  acquainted 
with  the  historical  facts  of  Christianity.  The  glimpses  he 
had  of  the  true  light,  but  increased  his  inward  disquietude, 
and  the  yearning  of  his  soul  for  clearer  manifestations  of 
that  religion  which  could  meet  the  felt  necessities  of  his 
spiritual  nature. 

The  chapter  which  opens  with  a  description  of  his  per- 
sonal and  domestic  piety,  unfolds  the  visions  and  instru- 
mental processes  which  resulted  in  his  personal  knowledge 
of  the  Saviour,  and  reception  into  the  Christian  Church 
by  baptism.  Cornelius  and  his  household  were  the  first 
fruits  of  the  Gentiles,  the  first  sheaves  of  that  prospective 
harvest  from  the  heathen  world. 

The  completeness  of  his  religious  character  gives  pecu- 
liar beauty  to  his  domestic  piety,  and  we  therefore  select 
this  home-scene  for  the  illustration  and  enforcement  of 
family  religion. 

The  inspired  historian,  by  a  few  truthful  touches,  has 


OR,     THE     FAMILY    ALTAR.  145 

portrayed  the  religious  character  of  Cornelius  in  its  per- 
sonal and  social  aspects. 

"A  devout  man,  and  one  that  feared  God."  This  is 
descriptive  of  his  personal  piety,  as  one  who  acknowledged 
and  worshipped  the  true  God,  and  practically  obeyed  the 
restraints  of  religion.  So  that  Cornelius,  according  to 
Theophylact,  though  neither  a  Jew  nor  a  Christian,  lived 
the  life  of  a  good  Christian. 

"  One  that  feared  God  with  all  his  house.''  This  indi- 
cates the  domestic  phase  of  his  piety.  His  own  religious 
sentiments  and  feelings  were  diffused  throughout  his  entire 
household.  Although  not  a  descendant  of  Abraham,  he 
imitated  the  example  of  that  illustrious  prototype  of  family 
religion,  so  highly  commended  by  God  :  "  I  know  him, 
that  he  will  command  his  children  and  his  household  after 
him,  and  they  shall  keep  the  way  of  the  Lord,  to  do  justice 
and  judgment."  ^'Who  gave  much  alms  to  the  people, 
and  prayed  to  God  always.''  In  this  we  see  the  com- 
pleteness and  harmony  of  his  character.  His  life  was  a 
practical  illustration  of  love  to  God  and  love  to  man.  His 
heart  not  only  turns  earthward  with  philanthropy,  but 
heavenward  in  the  aspirations  of  devotion.  "We  recognise 
in  Cornelius  the  harmony,  nay,  the  essential  identity  of 
religion  and  morality.  We  see  in  him  ^'religion  with  its 
earthly  and  social  phase,  and  morality  with  its  axis  turned 
heavenward."  His  was  not  that  ostentatious  piety  which 
pretends  to  lift  up  holy  hands  to  God,  but  never  stretclies 
them  out  in  works  of  practical  philanthropy  —  "which  is 
13 


14G  CORN  i:  L  I  U  fe     OF    C  vE  S  A  II  E  A ; 

lou<l  in  profession,  but  poor  in  performance  —  which  makes 
long  prayers,  but  devours  widows'  houses."  But  a  piety 
of  faith  and  works  —  of  devotion  and  beneficence  —  a  piety 
in  unconscious  imitation  of  Him  who  came  from  the  lonely 
conflict  of  the  desert  to  pursue  his  mission  of  mercy  and 
goodness,  who  came  from  the  midnight  prayer  on  the 
mountain  to  walk  on  and  calm  the  troubled  sea. 
Such  was  the  piety  of  Cornelius  — 

"The  Wrrht  of  affection  sunned  his  heart,  the  tear  of  the  grateful 
bedewed  his  feet ; 
lie  put  his  hand  with  constancy  to  good,  and  angels  knew  him  as 
a  brother.'^ 

This  harmony  and  completeness  of  religious  character 
in  Cornelius,  give  peculiar  beauty  and  power  to  his  example 
of  domestic  piety.  For,  unless  the  life  in  its  spiritual  tone 
and  general  expression  be  conformed  to  the  principles  and 
requirements  of  gospel  moralit}^,  the  mere  formal  routine 
of  family  worship,  so  far  from  proving  a  personal  and 
social  blessing,  may  only  tend  to  foster  self-deception, 
falsify  religion  in  the  face  of  the  household,  and  scandalize 
Christianity  in  the  eyes  of  the  world.  To  secure  the  great 
end  of  domestic  worship,  there  must  be  entire  conformity 
to  the  wall  of  God  at  home  and  abroad.  He  who  conducts 
the  household  devotions,  must  say  practically,  "As  forme 
and  my  house,  we  Avill  serve  the  Lord" — 

•'  By  actions,  words,  and  tempers,  show 
That  I  my  heav'nly  Master  know, 
And  serve  with  heart  sincere." 


OR,     THE     FAMILY    ALTAR.  147 

With  this  preliminary  reference  to  the  personal  and 
domestic  piety  of  Cornelius,  we  take  that  phase  of  the 
home-scene  in  which  he  appears,  with  his  household,  in 
the  attitude  of  worship. 

It  may  serve  to  give  reality  and  vividness  to  this  pic- 
tured household  in  Caesarea,  to  recall  that  scene  of  domestic 
worship  in  the  '^Cotter's  Saturday  Night,"  in  which  the 
aged  sire,  after  the  evening  meal,  gathers  the  family  round 
him,  "  turns  o'er  wi'  patriarchal  grace,  the  big  ha'  Bible, 
ance  his  father's  pride"  —  then  selects  some  sweet  song  of 
praise  from  the  Psalms  of  David  — 

"And  'Let  us  worship  God!'  he  says  with  solemn  air." 

That  scene  has  been  in  our  minds  from  childhood,  as  a 
beautiful,  living  picture  of  domestic  worship.  It  was  no 
fancy  sketch  —  no  ideal  picture  of  the  past ;  but  an  exact 
transcript  from  real  life,  as  Burns  saw  it  in  many  a  cot- 
tage among-  the  pious  peasantry  of  Scotland.  It  was, 
indeed,  but  a  transcript  from  memory,  of  the  home  of  his 
own  childhood  —  a  cherished  reminiscence  of  his  godly 
father,  as  he  was  wont,  morning  and  evening,  to  worship 
God  with  his  family.  This  scene  of  domestic  worship,  so 
familiarized  to  our  thoughts  by  the  genius  of  the  Scottish 
bard,  facilitates  our  efforts  to  realize  this  household  of 
Cornelius.  It  assumes  a  defined  form  and  actuality  in 
our  conceptions,  as  a  moral  picture.  We  see  the  pious 
Centurion,  with  the  family  group,  gathered  around  the 
domestic  altar  — 


148  CORNELIUS    OF    C^SAKEA; 

"  Then  kncelinj];  down  to  heaven's  eternal  King, 
The  saint,  the  father,  and  the  husband  prays; 
Hope  springs  exulting  on  triumphant  wing, 
That  thus  they  all  shall  meet  in  future  days." 

As  the  union  of  the  family  in  the  worship  of  God,  is 
essential  to  the  highest  well-being  of  the  household,  it 
claims  special  attention  in  these  moral  pictures,  designed 
to  illustrate  the  true-ideal  of  home-life. 

Our  thoughts  on  this  subject  naturally  arrange  them- 
selves in  the  following  order,  viz :  the  duty  —  the  seasons 
—  and  the  blessings  of  Family -worship. 

I. 

THE    DUTY    OF    FAMILY    WORSHIP. 
"Praying  always  with  all  prayer."  —  Paul. 

Whilst  prayer  is  uniformly  recognized  in  the  Bible  as 
a  duty,  it  is  nowhere  enjoined  by  any  express  or  formal 
enactment.  "  Prayer  is  nowhere  in  the  Scriptures  enjoined 
as  a  duty,  which  was  before  unknown,  and  new  at  the 
time  of  the  injunction ;  or  as  there  to  be  begun.  On  tho 
contrary,  it  is  always  spoken  of  as  a  duty  already  known, 
confessed,  and  practised.  All  the  commands  concerning 
,  it,  respect  either  the  times,  manner,  degree,  spirit,  univer- 
sality, or  some  other  circumstance  with  which  the  per- 
formance ought  to  be  connected.  In  no  instance  is  the 
duty  enjoined  as  original,  or  as  the  subject  of  a  new 
institution."*    With  this  admitted  fact,  concerning  prayer 

*  Dwight's  Theology,  vol.  iv.  p.  116. 


OR,     THE    FAMILY    ALTAR.  149 

in  general,  it  is  not  strange  that  even  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment there  is  no  express  command  to  worship  God  in  the 
family.  And  it*  any  seek  to  evade  the  obligation  of 
domestic  worship,  on  the  ground  that  there  is  no  formal 
injunction  for  such  worship,  a  parity  of  reasoning  would 
invalidate  all  obligation  to  pray,  either  in  secret  or  in  the 
public  assembly  —  and  as  a  consequence  we  should  be  left 
practically  in  a  prayerless  and  Godless  world. 

The  teachings  of  Scripture  in  relation  to  prayer  are 
J)erfectly  natural — ^just  such  as  the  facts  in  the  case  would 
lead  us  to  anticipate.  Men  from  the  beginning  had  con- 
fessed the  duty  of  prayer.  There  is  in  every  man  an 
inner  prompting  to  pray,  and  an  intuitive  belief  in  the 
power  of  prayer.  The  duty  itself  is  written  by  the  finger 
of  God  on  the  heart,  and  in  man's  moral  intuitions,  the 
*'  elder  Scripture."  And  hence  prayer,  in  some  form  of 
expression,  is  a  universal  characteristic  of  man.  Races 
of  men  have  been  found  in  the  lowest  phases  of  ignorance 
and  degradation ;  but  never  without  some  kind  of  prayer. 
In  times  of  peril  or  sorrow,  his  soul  as  instructively  turns 
to  some  power  or  being  beyond  himself  for  protection,  as 
the  infant  in  its  tears  pillows  its  head  on  the  bosom  of  its 
mother. 

The  Scriptures  assuming  the  universal  recognition  of 
prayer  and  its  moral  obligation,  proceed  at  once  to  define 
some  of  the  circumstantials  of  the  duty  —  in  relation  to 
the  manner,  spirit,  or  universality  of  its  performance  — 
without  any  explicit  injunction  of  the  duty  itself. 
13* 


150  CORNELIUS     OF    CiESAREA; 

Domestic  worship   belongs   to   those  duties   that   are    so 

obvious,  that  they  are  rather  assumed  than  commanded. 

And   yet   there  are  numerous  passages  in  the  Bible,  in 

which   the   duty   of  family   prayer   is    clearly   involved. 

Others  in  which  it  is  taught   by  a  necessary  inference. 

Take  as  one  instance,  the  passage  from  Paul,  which  we 

have  placed  at  the  beginning  of  this  section  —  "  Praying 

always  with  all  prayer" — that  is,  praying  at  every  season 

suited  to  devotion,  and  with  such  prayers  as  those  united 

in  the  duty  and  the  circumstances  require.    Family  prayer 

is  manifestly  included  in   this  general    direction   of  the 

Apostle. 

Besides,  such  prayer  is  demanded  by  the  very  nature 

of  the  case.     Every  Christian  must  pray ;  it  is  the  very 

breathing  and  pulsation  of   the  renewed  nature.     There 

was  no  more  need  of  a  command  for   the  Christian  to 

pray,  than  for  the  new-born  child  to  breathe,  for  in  both 

cases  it  is  the  condition  and  necessity  of  their  very  being. 

"  Prayer  is  the  Christian's  vital  breath, 
The  Christian's  native  air." 

And  it  is  just  as  natural  for  the  Christian  to  pray  with 
and  for  those  he  loves.  Prayer  is  peculiarly  a  social 
exercise.  "  If  there  were  but  two  human  beings  upon 
earth,  they  would  be  drawn,  if  they  were  of  sanctified 
hearts,  to  pray  with  one  another.  Here  we  have  the 
fountain  of  domestic  worship."  Two  persons  of  kindred 
'  religious  spirit,  and  religious  aspirations,  would  be 
prompted  by  a  natural  law,  as  well  as  a  gracious  impulse 


151 

to  unite  in  social  worship.  Hence,  that  scene  in  Paradise 
Lost,  in  which  Adam  and  Eve  are  represented  as  engaged 
in  morning  worship,  is  no  mere  picture  of  the  Poet's 
fancy,  but  a  shadowing  forth  of  a  reality.  The  first 
instance  of  Family  Worship,  was  undoubtedly  in  Paradise. 

The  duty,  therefore,  instead  of  being  "  incorporated  into 
the  law  of  commandments,"  is  left  to  the  pious  sentiments 
and  gracious  promptings  of  the  renewed  heart.  But,  not 
only  have  Christians,  with  a  holy  spontaneity,  been  led  to 
tliis  social  worship,  but  they  have  been  prompted  to  it  by 
a  conviction,  that  such  devotion  was  absolutely  demanded 
by  the  very  constitution  and  design  of  domestic  life. 

Even  without  any  express  New  Testament  command,  it 
is  easy  to  see  that  the  proper  shaping  of  Christian  domestic 
life,  and  especially  the  successful  performance  of  duty  as 
to  the  religious  education  of  children,  require  the  Family 
Altar,  on  which  the  father,  as  priest,  may  daily  offer  the 
sacrifice  of  thanksgiving  and  intercession.* 

The  Lord's  Prayer  seems  obviously  to  have  been  in- 
tended for  family  worship.  It  may  be  used  appropriately 
in  secret  devotion,  or  in  the  prayers  of  the  church,  but, 
it  is  evident,  from  its  whole  plan  and  structure,  that  it 
v/as  specially  intended  for  the  household.  Every  sentence 
bears  the  impress  of  its  social  character.  And  the  fact 
that  one  petition  especially  indicates  its  daily  use,  shows 
that  it  was  not  primarily  or  mainly  intended  for  the 
public  worship  of  the  church,  since  that  is  not  a  daily 
*  Dr.  Schaff's  History  of  the  Apostolic  Church. 


1  r)2  C  0  II  N  !•  L  I  U  S     OF     C  .Tl  S  A  11  E  A  ; 

worship.  This  model  prayer,  given  by  our  Lord,  was 
manifestly  intended  for  the  family  and  the  tire-side,  and  is 
thus  both  a  recognition  of  the  duty  and  a  guide  for  its 
performance.  The  Savior  assumes  the  existence  of  such 
devotion,  and  gives  to  it  his  sanction  and  guidance.  What 
higher  authority  can  we  ask  for  the  obligation  of  family 
worship  ? 

Sacred  history  furnishes  ample  testimonials  to  the 
practice  of  domestic  worship  in  all  ages  of  the  church. 
Abraham,  the  friend  of  God,  was  accustomed  in  his  pil- 
grim wanderings,  wherever  he  pitched  his  tent,  to  build  an 
altar,  and  call  on  the  name  of  the  Lord.  —  (Gen.  xii.  7, 
8  ;  xiii.  4,  8.) 

Joshua  —  "As  for  me  and  my  house,  we  will  serve  the 
Lord,"  w^hich  resolution  obviously  included  the  devotion 
of  the  family. 

Job,  who  feared  God  and  eschewed  evil,  we  are  told, 
offered  sacrifices  for  all  his  children  (Job  i.  5,  8) ;  sacrifices 
undoubtedly  attended  with  prayer. 

Of  David,  we  read,  that  after  the  public  services  at  the 
tabernacle,  he  "  returned  to  bless  his  household,"  evidently 
to  perform  some  solemn  act  of  domestic  worship. 

Similar  testimonials  to  family  religion  are  found  in  the 
New  Testament.  In  the  eloquent  language  of  Rev.  James 
Hamilton,*  "  Do  you  envy  Cornelius,  whose  prayers  were 
heard,  and  to  whom  the  Lord  sent  a  special  messenger  to 
teach  him  the  way  of  salvation  ?     He  was  *  a  devout  man, 

*  The  church  in  the  house. 


OR,    THE    FAMILY    ALTAR.  153 

one  who  feared  God  with  all  Ms  house,  and  prayed  to 
God  always ;'  and  who  was  so  anxious  for  the  salvation  of 
his  family  that  he  got  together  his  kinsmen  and  near 
friends,  that  they  might  be  ready  to  hear  the  apostle  when 
he  arrived,  and  share  with  himself  the  benefit.*  Do  you 
admire  Aquila  and  Priscilla,  Paul's  'helpers  in  Christ 
Jesus,'  and  who  were  so  skilful  in  the  Scriptures,  that  they 
were  able  to  teach  a  young  minister  the  way  of  God  more 
perfectly  ?  You  will  find  that  one  reason  for  their  famili- 
arity with  Scripture  was,  that  they  had  "a  Church  in 
their  house. 'f  In  the  Bible  you  find  instances  of  family 
devotion  in  all  ranks  of  life,  from  the  king  to  the  artisan, 
from  David's  palace  to  the  tent  of  Aquila ;  to  teach  you 
that  whatever  be  your  situation  in  life,  you  should  still 
have  a  church  in  your  house." 

There  is  ample  evidence  attesting  the  observance  of 
domestic  worship  among  the  primitive  Christians.  In 
confirmation  of  this  statement,  we  make  the  following 
extract  from  a  popular  and  reliable  work  on  Christian 
Antiquities. 

"  Instead  of  consuming  their  leisure  hours  in  vacant 
idleness,  or  deriving  their  chief  amusement  from  boisterous 
merriment,  the  recital  of  tales  of  superstition,  or  the 
chanting  of  the  profane  songs  of  the  heathen,  they  passed 
their  hours  of  repose  in  rational  and  enlivening  pursuits ; 
found  pleasure  in  enlarging  their  religious  knowledge,  and 
entertainment  in  songs  that  were  dedicated  to  the  praise 

*  Acts  X.  2,  24,  31,  23.  f  Acts  xviii.  20  :  Rom.  >:vl.  5. 


15  t  C  0  R  NM^:  L  I  U  S     OF     C  M  i>  A  R  E  A  ; 

of  God.     These  formed  their  pasthne  in  private,  and  tlieir 

favourite  recreations  at  their  family  and  friendly  meetings. 

With  tlieir  minds  full  of  the  inspiring  influence  of  these, 

they  returned  with  fresh  ardor  to  their  scenes  of  toil ;  and 

to  gratify  their  taste  for  a  renewal  of  these,  they  longed 

for  release  from  labor,  far  more  than  to  appease    their 

appetite  with  the  provisions  of  the  table.     Young  women 

sitting  at  the  distaff,  and  matrons  going  about  the  duties 

of  the  household,  were  constantly  humming  some  spiritual 

airs.     And  Jerome  relates,  of  the  place  where  he  lived, 

that  one  could  not  go  into  the  field  without  hearing  the 

ploughman  at  his  hallelujahs,  the  mower  at  his   hymns, 

and  the  vinedresser    singing    the  Psalms    of  David.     It 

was  not  merely  at  noon,  and  in  time  of  their  meals,  that 

the  primitive  Christians  read  the  word  of  God,  and  sang 

praises  to  his  name.     At  an  early  hour  in  the  morning 

the  family  were  assembled,  when  a  portion  of  Scripture 

was  read  from  the  Old  Testament,  which  was  followed  by 

a  hymn  and  a  prayer,  in  which  thanks  were  offered  up  to 

the    Almighty   for   preserving   them    during    the    silent 

watches  of  the  night,  and  for  his  goodness  in  permitting 

them  to  meet  in  health  of  body  and  soundness  of  mind; 

and  at  the  same  time  his  grace  was  implored  to  defend 

them  amid  the  dangers  and  temptations  of   the  day,  to 

make  them  faithful  to  every  duty,  and  enable  them  in  all 

respects  to  walk  worthy  of  their  Christian  vocation.     In 

the    evening,    before    retiring   to   rest,  the  family  again 

assembled,  when  the  same  form  of  worship  was  observed 


OR,    T  I]  E     FAMILY     ALTAR.  155 

as  in  tlic  morning,  with  this  difference,  that  the  service 
-was  considerably  protracted  beyond  the  period  which 
could  conveniently  be  allotted  to  it  in  the  commencement 
of  the  day.  Besides  all  these  observances,  they  were  in 
the  habit  of  rising  at  midnight,  to  engage  in  prayer  and 
the  singing  of  psalms ;  a  practice  of  venerable  antiquity, 
and  which,  as  Dr.  Cave  justly  supposes,  took  its  origin 
from  the  first  times  of  persecution,  when,  not  daring  to 
meet  together  in  the  day,  they  were  forced  to  keep  their 
religious  assemblies  in  the  night."* 

What  has  been  said  may  suffice  to  show  the  duty  of 
family  worship.  It  is  based  upon  divine  authority  and  il- 
lustrated by  the  example  of  the  pious  in  all  ages.  It  is 
commended  to  us  by  the  universal  voice  of  the  church. 
The  same  reasons  that  urge  us  to  pray  at  all,  are  equally 
strong  in  favor  of  family  prayer.  There  is  an  obvious 
propriety  in  acknowledging  as  families  our  dependence 
upon  God  —  of  rendering  united  thanksgiving  for  house- 
hold blessings  —  confessing  family  sins,  and  conjointly 
supplicating  the  divine  blessing  upon  our  homes  and  our 
children. 

*  Antiquities  of  the  Christian  Church  by  the  Rev.  Lyman  Cole- 
man. 


150  CO  11  NM-.  LITIS     OF    C  ^E  S  A  R  E  A  ; 

II. 

SEASONS    AND    CONSTITUENT    PARTS    OF    FAMILY 
WORSHIP. 

"  One  that  feared  God  with  all  his  house,  and  prayed  to  God 
always." 

"As  for  me,  I  will  call  upon  God,  evening  and  morning,  and  at 
noon  will  I  pray  and  cry  aloud." — David. 

"Family-worship,  as  the  name  imports,  is  the  joint 
worship  rendered  to  God  by  all  the  members  of  one  house- 
hold." There  should  be  special  care  to  secure  the  attend- 
ance of  all  who  constitute  at  the  time  the  household.  It 
gives  peculiar  beauty  and  impressiveness  to  the  devotion 
to  suspend  all  the  domestic  duties,  so  that  the  whole 
family  may  participate  in  the  services  and  blessings  of  the 
social  worship. 

This  worship  when  fully  observed  consists  in  the  read- 
ing of  the  Scriptures,  the  singing  of  praises  to  God, 
and  prayer.  The  order  may  be  varied,  but  neither  the 
singing  nor  reading  can  be  omitted  without  impairing  the 
service.  The  united  prayer  is  the  main  thing,  and  that 
of  itself  properly  conducted  would  constitute  family 
worship.  But  singing  and  reading  are  important  as  con- 
stituent parts  of  the  service,  and  conducive  to  the  general 
result  contemplated  in  such  devotions. 

The  reading  of  Scripture  daily  in  the  family  is  of  vast 
importance  to  the  different  members  of  the  household. 
The  children  become  familiarized  with  the  word  of  God, 


157 

and  receive  religious  impressions  lasting  as  life.  Some 
members  of  the  family  may  depend  mainly  upon  this 
means  for  their  knowledge  of  divine  truth.  Besides,  the 
immediate  effect  of  the  truth  upon  the  mind  is  a  pre- 
parative for  communion  with  God. 

Singing  is  a  part  of  the  service  in  which  all  may  learn 
to  unite,  and  is  eminently  promotive  of  devotional  feeling. 
It  is  a  pleasant  method  of  instilling  into  the  mind  of 
childhood  the  great  truths  of  religion.  "Let  the  word  of 
Christ  dwell  in  you  richly  in  all  wisdom ;  teaching  and 
admonishing  one  another  in  psalms  and  hymns  and  spiri- 
tual songs,  singing  with  grace  in  your  hearts  to  the  Lord." 

Children  easily  learn  to  sing,  and  naturally  find  the 
greatest  pleasure  in  this  part  of  the  service.  And  how 
beautiful  is  the  sight  of  a  whole  family  united  in  the 
praises  of  God !  How  it  sanctifies  home-duties  and  re- 
lations, and  hallows  the  affectional  union  of  the  house- 
hold !  Let  not  this  part  of  domestic  service,  when  at  all 
practicable,  be  omitted.  "  The  voice  of  rejoicing  is  in  the 
tabernacles  of  the  righteous." 

The  prayer  is  the  principal  part  of  the  worship.  Let 
it  be  comparatively  short  and  instinct  with  life  and  anima- 
tion, so  as  not  to  weary  the  younger  members  of  the 
household.  Let  it  be  peculiar  as  family  prayer,  having 
special  reference  to  household  sins,  incidents,  and  bless- 
ings, so  that  each  member  of  the  family  may  feel  a  per- 
sonal interest  in  the  devotions. 

In   that   immortal   picture   of    family   worship,  which 
14 


158  CORNELIUS     OF     C  .11  S  A  R  E  A  ; 

Burns  drev/  from  real  life  among  the  pious  peasantry  of 
Scotland,  he  has  given  these  several  parts  of  family 
worship  in  his  own  inimitable,  life-like  manner. 

The  aged  sire  gathers  the  household  round  the  family 
altar  —  opens  the  old  family  Bible  —  selects  some  of 
"those  strains  that  once  did  sweet  in  Zion  glide  —  and, 
*Let  us  worship  God ! '  he  says,  with  solemn  air." 

"They  chant  their  artless  notes  in  simple  guise, 

They  tune  their  hearts,  by  far  their  noblest  aim, 
Perhaps  Dundee's  wild  warbling  measures  rise, 

Or  sainted  Martyrs  worthy  of  the  name. 
Or  noble  Eight  beats  the  heavenward  flame, 

The  sweetest  far  of  Scotia's  holy  lays. 
Compared  with  these  Italian  trills  are  tame ; 

The  tickled  ears  no  heart-felt  raptures  raise, 
Nae  unison  hae   they  with  our  Creator's  praise. 

The  priest-like  father  reads  the  sacred  page. 

How  Abram  was  the  friend  of  God  on  high, 
Or  Moses  bade  eternal  warfare  wage 

"With  Amalek's  ungracious  progeny ; 
Or  how  the  royal  bard  did  groaning  lie 

Beneath  the  stroke  of  Heaven's  avenging  ire; 
Or  Job's  pathetic  plaint  and  wailing  cry: 

Or  rapt  Isaiah's  wild  seraphic  fire ; 
Or  other  holy  seers  that  tune  the  sacred  lyre. 

Perhaps  the  Christian  volume  is  the  theme : 
How  guiltless  blood  for  guilty  man  was  shed, 

How  He  who  bore  in  heaven  the  second  name, 
Had  not  on  earth  whereon  to  lay  his  head ; 

How  his  first  followers  and  servants  sped 

The  precept  sage  they  wrote  to  many  a  land: 


OR,     THE     FAMILY    ALTAR.  159 

How  he  who  lone  in  Patmos  banished, 

Saw  in  the  sun  a  mighty  angel  stand; 
And  heard  great  Babylon's  doom  pronounced  by  heaven^s 
command. 


Then  kneeling  down  to  heaven's  eternal  King, 

The  saint,  the  father,  and  the  husband  prays ; 
Hope  springs  exulting  on  triumphant  wing, 

That  thus  they  all  shall  meet  in  future  days: 
There  ever  bask  in  uncreated  rays, 

No  more  to  sigh  or  shed  the  bitter  tear, 
Together  hymning  their  Creator's  praise, 

In  such  society,  yet  still  more  dear; 
While  circling  time  moves  round  in  an  eternal  sphere. 

Compared  with  this,  how  poor  religion's  pride, 

In  all  the  pomp  of  method  and  of  art, 
"When  men  display  to  congregations  wide. 

Devotion's  every  grace  except  the  heart ; 
The  Power  incensed  the  pageant  will  desert. 

The  pompous  strain,  the  sacerdotal  stole; 
But  haply  in  some  cottage  far  apart, 

May  hear  well-pleased  the  language  of  the  soul, 
And  in  His  book  of  life  the  inmates  poor  enroll." 


THE    SEASONS    OF    DOMESTIC    WORSHIP. 

Of  Cornelius  it  is  said,  "he  prayed  to  God  always;' 
by  which  is  meant  that  he  prayed  frequently,  or  at  the 
stated  hours  of  the  Jews,  who  offered  up  their  supplications 
and  thanksgivings  in  the  morning,  at  mid-day,  and  in  the 
evening.  The  Psalmist  says,  "  Evening,  and  morning,  and 
at  noon,  will  I  pray,  and  cry  aloud,  and  he  shall  hear  my 
voice." 


IGO  CORNELIUS  OF  c^sarea; 

Among  Christians,  by  common  consent,  the  two  seasons 
of  morning  and  evening  have  been  appropriated  to  this 
service.  There  is  an  obvious  suitableness  in  this  arrange- 
ment. It  is  important  that  there  should  be  fixed  seasons 
for  family-worship ;  and  these  portions  of  the  day  are  the 
most  favorable  for  the  union  of  the  entire  household,  with 
out  interference  with  the  accustomed  duties  of  life. 

Besides  there  is  an  obvious  moral  fitness  in  morning  and 
evening  worship. 

MORNING   WORSHIP. 

**  My  voice  shalt  thou  hear  in  the  morning,  0  Lord ;  in  tho 
morning  will  I  direct  my  prayer  unto  thee,  and  will  look  up." 

"New  mercies  each  returning  day, 
Hover  around  us  while  we  pray ; 
New  perils  past,  new  sins  forgiven, 
New  thoughts  of  God,  new  hopes  of  heaven." 

What  a  time  for  prayer  is  the  serene  morning  —  that 
silence  of  the  early  dawn  —  the  silence,  as  it  were,  of 
expectation  —  that  freshening  glow,  that  new  inspiration 
of  life,  as  if  it  came  from  the  breath  of  heaven !  The 
darkness  is  rolled  away  —  the  iron  slumber  of  the  world 
is  broken ;  it  is  the  daily  resurrection-hour  of  rejoicing 
millions.  We  wake  from  the  slumbers  of  the  night,  and 
nothing  is  lost  of  ourselves  in  that  sleep  of  forgetfulness. 
Each  limb  is  filled  with  life ;  each  sense  holds  its 
station ;  each  faculty,  each  thought,  is  in  its  place ;  no 
dark  insanity,  no  dreary  eclipse,  hath  spread  itself  over 


OR,     THE    FAMILY    ALTAR.  161 

the  soul.  Sleep  seems  like  a  returning  for  a  while  from 
self-possession  into  the  immediate  hand  of  God,  and  mys- 
terious contact  with  his  regenerating  life  —  for  a  new 
influx  from  the  Fountain  of  being,  into  the  very  depths 
of  our  existence,  of  freshness  and  strength.  We  wake  up, 
soothed  and  invigorated  in  every  faculty,  to  renew  the 
service  of  another  day.  What  shall  the  thoughts  of  that 
hour  be,  but  wondering  and  adoring  thoughts  ?  Well  are 
a  portion  of  our  prayers  called  matins,  morning  prayers  — 
orisons  in  the  first  light  of  day.  Devotion  is  the  sponta- 
neous service  of  the  morning.  How  appropriate  —  as  God 
gives  us  new  life,  and  a  new  world  blushing  with  the  dawn, 
vocal  with  the  song  of  birds,  while  clouds  of  vapor  and 
smoke  rise  like  columns  of  incense  from  hill  and  dale  and 
human  homes  to  heaven  —  that  our  hearts  should  catch 
the  religious  sentiment  of  the  morning,  "  and  at  the  rosy 
dawn  of  day"  be  lifted  in  adoring  gratitude  and  praise  to 
the  Father  of  lights,  whose  mercies  are  new  every  morning. 
And  then,  the  blessings  of  the  day  depend,  in  a  great 
measure,  on  the  spirit  and  manner  in  which  we  begin  it 
on  the  key-note  of  the  morning  hour.  How  appropriate, 
when  the  perils  of  the  night  are  passed,  and  those  of  the 
day  are  all  unknown  and  untried,  when  this  may  be  a  day 
of  trial,  of  sad  news,  of  disappointment,  of  sickness,  or  of 
death  —  how  beautiful  to  gather  our  household  at  the 
threshold  of  the  day,  and  bow  down  in  humblest  adora- 
tion before  Him  "who  bids  the  morn  and  evening  roll," 
invoking  his  guidance  and  grace  and  blessing  for  the  day ! 
14* 


162  CORNELIUS    OF    C.ESAREA; 

Every  sentiment  of  the  opening  day,  every  gracious 
prompting  of  the  renewed  heart,  seems  to  summon  the 
family  to  morning  worship  — 

"  To  prayer,  to  prayer !     For  the  morning  breaks, 
And  earth  in  her  Maker's  smile  awakes, 
His  light  is  on  all  below  and  above, 
The  light  of  gladness  and  life  and  love. 
0,  then  on  the  breath  of  this  early  air, 
Send  upward  the  incense  of  grateful  prayer !" 

EVENING  WORSHIP. 

"Let  my  prayer  be  set  forth  before  thee  as  incense j  and  the 
lifting  up  of  my  hands  as  the  evening  sacrifice.'* 

**  Turn  from  the  beaten  path  by  worldlings  trod, 
Go  forth  at  eventide,  in  heart  to  walk  with  God." 

When  the  cares  and  trials  of  the  day  are  ended,  and 
its  record  is  written  ;  when  the  shadows  steal  over  the 
earth ;  when  other  worlds  of  the  universe  are  unveiled  in 
the  infinitude  of  heaven ;  then  how  natural  the  promptings 
of  the  pious  heart  to  grateful  worship.  How  meet  were 
it  then,  that  in  every  house  there  should  be  a  vesper 
hymn ! 

"I  have  read,"  says  one,*  "of  such  a  scene  in  a 
village,  in  some  country  —  I  think  it  was  in  Italy  —  where 
the  traveller  heard,  as  the  day  went  down,  and  amidst  the 
gathering  shadows  of  the  still  evening,  first  from  one 
dwelling  and  then  from  another,  the  voices  of  song  ;  —  it 
was  the  vesper  hymn.  How  beautiful  were  it,  in  village 
*  Dewey. 


OR,    THE    FAMILY    ALTAR.  163 

or  city,  for  dwelling  thus  to  call  to  dwelling,  saying, 
*  great  and  marvellous  are  thy  works,  Lord  God  Almighty ; 
just  and  true  are  thy  ways ;  God  of  the  morning !  God 
of  the  evening !  we  praise  thee ;  goodness  and  mercy  hast 
thou  caused  to  follow  us  all  our  days.' " 

Beautiful  is  the  evening  worship  !  The  memhers  of  the 
family  surrounding  the  domestic  altar  recount  the  bless- 
ings of  the  day,  then  mingle  their  grateful  hearts  and 
voices  in  the  sweet  sacrifice  of  prayer  and  praise  — 

"At  once  they  sing,  at  once  they  pray" — 

Unitedly,  they  make  their  confessions  of  sin,  and  plead 
for  forgiveness  in  the  name  of  Jesus,  that 

"Sprinkled  afresh  with  pard'ning  blood" — 

they  may  retire  —  to  rest  in  peace  under  the  shadow  of  a 
Savior's  wing  —  individually  repeating  the  words  of  the 
Psalmist,  "  I  will  both  lay  me  down  in  peace  and  sleep ; 
for  thou  Lord,  only  makest  me  dwell  in  safety,"  and  lulled 
to  the  slumbers  of  the  night,  with  some  sweet  thoughts  of 
God  and  heaven  — 

"  When  the  soft  dews  of  kindly  sleep 
My  weary  eyelids  gently  steep, 
Be  my  last  thought,  how  sweet  to  rest 
For  ever  on  my  Savior's  breast." 

Well  does  the  poet  sound  the  Oriental  call  from  the 
turrets  of  the  night :  — 


101  counm:lius   of 

••  To  prayer !  for  the  glorious  sun  is  gone, 
And  the  gathering  darkness  of  night  comes  on  ; 
Like,  a  curtain  from  God's  kind  hand  it  flows, 
To  shade  the  couch  where  his  children  repose ; 
Then  kneel,  while  the  watching  stars  are  bright, 
And  give  your  last  thoughts  to  the  Guardian  of  night." 


III. 

THE    BLESSINGS    OF    FAMILY    WORSHIP. 

"  Thy  prayers  and  thy  alms  arc  come  up  for  a  memorial  before 
God." 

"Angels   are  round   the   good  man,  to   catch   the  incense   of  his 
prayers, 
And  they  fly  to  minister  kindness  to  those  for  whom  he  pleadcth." 

The  advantages  of  domestic  worship  justly  claim  a  more 
extended  consideration  than  is  practicable  in  the  con- 
cluding pages  of  this  chapter.  We  can  do  but  little  more 
than  oifer  suggestions,  leaving  them  to  the  elaboration  of 
your  own  thoughts,  and  the  blessing  of  the  Divine  Spirit. 

1.  It  is  obvious  that  the  daily  union  of  the  household 
in  social  worship  will  promote  that  harmony  of  feeling  so 
essential  to  domestic  enjoyment.  It  has  been  truly  said, 
"Family  prayer  is  the  oil  which  removes  friction,  and 
causes  all  the  complicated  wheels  of  the  family  to  move 
smoothly  and  noiselessly."  There  may  be  occasional  jars 
in  the  best  of  families ;  the  irritations  of  business,  or  the 
cares  of  indoor  life,  may  ruffle  the  temper,  and  generate 
alienations,    that   mar   the   beauty    of    the   home -circle. 


165 

Sudden  ebullitions  of  temper,  or  bitter  words,  may  disturb 
the  delicate  adjustment  of  the  social  harmony.  But  when 
they  gather  round  the  mercy  seat  —  sing  together  —  and 
kneel  together,  with  the  common  Our  Father  upon  their 
lips  and  in  their  hearts,  how  are  the  petty  discords  and 
alienations  forgotten  and  consumed  upon  the  altar  of 
devotion !  How  are  all  the  discordant  elements  har- 
monized into  a  beautiful  oneness  !  If  evil  tempers  or 
explosive  passions  have  ruffled  the  peace  and  harmony  of 
the  household,  how  the  domestic  service,  like  the  voice  of 
Jesus,  soothes  the  troubled  elements,  and  beautifies  the 
home-scene  with  a  heavenly  calm !  Happy  the  families 
that  realize  this  pacifying  influence  of  the  home -altar, 
where  the  daily  prayers  are  as  the  dews  of  Hermon ! 

"Behold,  how  good  and  how  pleasant  it  is  for  brethren 
to  dwell  together  in  unity.  It  is  like  the  precious  oint- 
ment upon  the  head,  that  ran  down  upon  the  beard,  even 
Aaron's  beard,  that  went  down  to  the  skirts  of  his 
garments.  As  the  dew  of  Hermon,  and  as  the  dew  that 
descended  upon  the  mountains  of  Zion  ;  for  there  the  Lord 
commanded  the  blessing,  even  life  for  evermore." 

2.  Domestic  worship,  if  rightly  observed,  must  be  con- 
ducive to  family  religion,  and,  as  a  consequence,  to  domestic 
order  and  parental  discipline.  There  is  a  peculiar  adapta- 
tion in  this  daily  association  of  the  household  in  communion 
with  God,  to  quicken  every  sentiment  and  feeling  of  piety. 
It  is  a  daily  use  of  the  means  of  grace,  under  circumstances 
peculiarly  tender  and  affecting — at  the  home  and  fireside, 


1C6  C  0  R  X  K  L  I  U  S    OF    C  ;E  S  A  11  E  A  ; 

among  those  who  are  nearest  our  hearts.  "  Here,  if  any- 
where, the  heart  will  respond  to  the  call  of  devotion,  and 
be  prompted  to  burst  forth  in  prayer.  Here  the  fainting 
experience  will  plume  its  wings  for  the  attempt  of  a  higher 
flight,  and  the  joys  of  a  hidden  devotion  will  mingle  with 
the  flames  of  a  common  altar."  And  then  it  is  a  daily 
ordinance  of  religion,  in  which  the  household,  by  religious 
sympathy  and  affcctional  union,  are  borne  upward  and 
onward  in  the  divine  life,  whilst  the  divine  blessing 
descends  as  the  rain  and  silent  dew — "as  the  small 
rain  upon  the  tender  herb,  and  as  the  showers  upon 
the  grass." 

And  just  as  this  service  tends  to  promote  home-piety, 
will  it  facilitate  parental  government.  It  w^ill  deepen  the 
sense  of  responsibility  in  the  parents,  and  by  multiform 
expressions  of  their  solicitude  for  the  piety  of  their  house- 
hold, all  will  be  made  to  feel  that  religion  in  their  view, 
and  in  fact,  is  the  one  thing  needful.  By  fostering  the 
tender  relations  and  vigorous  afiections  of  the  family,  the 
exercise  of  parental  control  will  be  invested  witji  the 
sanctity  and  authority  of  love,  and  subordination  be 
recognized  as  a  duty  both  natural  and  pleasant.  All 
will  move  in  their  respective  spheres  with  the  ease  and 
harmony  of  love.  A  domestic  piety  will  hallow  the  duties 
and  cares  of  life,  and  make  the  recreations  and  pleasures 
of  home  such  as  "leave  no  stain  on  the  wings  of  time." 

3.  Pre-eminent  among  the  blessings  of  family  worship 
is  its  infli'cnce  upon  childhood.     From  the  earliest  dawn 


0  Ft ,    THE     FAMILY    A  w  T  A  R  .  167 

of  intelligence,  the  clilklren  accustomed  to  the  daily  ser- 
vice see  religion  in  one  of  its  most  affecting  forms.  They 
become  familiarized  with  the  great  ideas  of  religion  from 
their  childhood.  Home  is  consecrated  to  memory  as  a 
place  of  prayer,  as  the  sanctuary  of  their  earliest  religious 
thoughts  and  devotions.  "In  many  instances  we  may 
suppose,  the  first  believing  prayers  of  the  Christian  youth 
ascend  from  the  fireside.  Slight  impressions,  otherwise 
transient,  are  thus  fixed,  and  infant  aspirations  are  carried 
up  with  the  volume  of  domestic  incense.  Is  it  too  much  to 
say,  that  in  this  way  family  worship  becomes  the  means 
of  everlasting  salvation  to  multitudes?"* 

We  read  of  the  Carthagenian  who  led  his  son,  when 
nine  years  old,  to  the  altar,  and  made  him  swear  undying 
hatred  and  revenge  against  Rome.  The  impression  grew 
with  his  growth;  and  years  after,  that  child,  as  a  man, 
marched  with  burning  revenge  to  the  walls  of  the  imperial 
city.  So  may  the  Christian  parent  win  the  heart  of  his 
child  to  truth  and  God,  by  leading  him  daily,  in  the 
impressible  years  of  childhood,  to  the  altar  of  prayer. 
The  scene  of  prayer  in  the  early  home,  associated  with 
the  memory  of  parents,  brothers,  and  sisters,  is  never 
forgotten;  it  lives  on,  and  ever  charms  them  back  to 
childhood.  The  old  home-restraints  lie  upon  him  like  a 
magic  chain,  perhaps  never  utterly  forced  away.  That 
altar  of  prayer,  where  once  we  bowed  with  father  and 

*  J.  W.  Alexander. 


168  CORNELIUS     OF    CiESAREA; 

motlicr,  has  a  living  history  all  tlirough  life.  And  the 
religious  impressions  of  such  a  home  must  be  influential 
for  good. 

Said  a  man  of  prayer,  now  ministering  with  holy  hands 
at  the  altar  of  God,  "  My  heart  turns  to  the  family  altar, 
where  first  I  knelt  by  a  mother's  side,  and  a  father  lifted 
his  voice  in  supplication.  Impressions  were  then  made 
which  time  has  never  effaced.  With  the  first  hour  of 
waking  and  the  last  hour  before  repose  the  breath  of 
prayer  mingled.  It  arrested  our  youthful  feet  at  the 
opening  of  each  day,  and  lingered  on  our  ear  as  we  laid 
our  heads  on  the  pillow.  Like  the  still,  calm  twilight,  it 
blessed  the  dawn  and  close  of  the  day." 

Dr.  Scott,  the  Commentator,  lived  to  see  his  numerous 
family  of  children  professedly  pious,  and  he  declared  it  to 
be  the  fruit  of  his  family  devotions.  "  I  look  back,"  said 
he,  a  short  time  before  his  death,  "  upon  my  conduct  in 
this  respect  with  peculiar  gratitude,  as  one  grand  means 
of  my  uncommon  measure  of  domestic  comfort,  and  of 
bringing  down  upon  my  children  the  blessings  which  God 
has  been  pleased  to  bestow  upon  them."* 

"Why  should  not  such  results  flow  from  family  prayer  ? 
Do  not  the  divine  promises  warrant  the  expectation  of 
such  results  ?  Besides  the  collateral  blessings,  we  are 
authorized  to  look  for  God's  special  grace  in  the  conversion 
of  our  children,   in  answer  to  the  yearning   hearts   of 

*  Quoted  from  Thayer's  Hints  for  the  Household. 


OR,     THE    FAMILY    ALTAR.  169 

parental  love,  in  their  devout  aspirations  at    the  family 
altar. 

In  many  a  home  the  domestic  worship  has  been  blessed 
by  God  to  the  saving  ofik souls.  We  will  give  some  well 
authenticated /a(?^s  in  illustration  of  this  point. 

THE    INFIDEL    CONVERTED. 

A  few  years  ago,  an  English  gentleman  visited  America, 
and  spent  some  days  with  a  pious  friend.  He  was  a  man 
of  talent  and  accomplishments,  but  an  infidel.  Four 
years  afterwards  he  returned  to  the  same  house,  a  Chris- 
tian. They  wondered  at  the  change,  but  little  suspected 
when  and  where  it  had  originated.  He  told  them  that 
when  he  was  present  at  their  family  worship,  on  the  first 
evening  of  his  former  visit,  and  when  after  the  chapter  was 
read,  they  all  knelt  down  to  pray  —  the  recollection  of 
such  scenes  in  his  father's  house  long  years  ago,  rushed 
in  on  his  memory,  so  that  he  did  not  hear  a  single  word. 
But  the  occurrence  made  him  think,  and  his  thoughtfulness 
ended  in  his  leaving  the  howling  wilderness  of  infidelity, 
and  finding  a  quiet  rest  in  the  salvation  wrought  out  by 
Jesus  Christ.  In  his  Fireside,  Mr.  Abbot  tells  us  of  a 
gay  young  lady  who  paid  a  visit  of  a  week  in  the  family 
of  a  minister,  an  eminently  holy  man.  His  fervent  inter- 
cessions for  his  children  and  the  other  inmates  of  his 
dwelling,  went  to  this  thoughtless  heart :  they  were  the 
Spirit's  arrow,  and  upon  that  family  altar  his  visitor  was 
enabled  to  present  herself  a  living  sacrifice  to  God. 
15 


170  C  0  11  N  E  L  I  U  S     OF     C  ^.  S  A  R  E  A  ;  -^ 

A    FAMILY    CONVERTED. 

A  man  in  the  western  country  removed  into  a  new  town 
and  took  the  first  measures  to  establish  religious  meetings. 
The  Lord  blessed  his  exertions ;  a  church  was  formed  of 
which  he  was  chosen  deacon,  and  a  minister  was  settled. 
His  family  grew  up  around  him,  but  none  of  his  children 
were  converted,  and  he  felt  great  anxiety  lest  family 
jprayer  should  cense  after  he  should  be  removed.  He 
lived  to  be  upwards  of  seventy  years  old,  and  all  the  time 
his  constant  prayer  was,  that  God  would  have  mercy  on 
his  children  and  not  suffer  the  lamp  of  piety  to  go  out  in 
his  house.  One  of  the  sons  moved  into  the  family  mansion 
to  take  care  of  the  old  man,  as  his  wife  was  dead.  He 
still  kept  up  family  prayer  as  usual,  never  forgetting  to 
pray  for  his  son,  that  he  might  be  converted  and  take  his 
place  at  the  family  altar.  A  revival  commenced  in  the 
town,  and  the  minister  heard  that  there  was  something 
unusual  at  the  old  family  mansion.  He  called  to  see 
them ;  in  one  room  he  beheld  six  or  seven  persons  weeping, 
distressed  for  their  sins,  and  the  old  man  kneeling  in  one 
corner,  with  his  eyes  and  hands  lifted  up  to  heaven,  crying 
to  God  to  have  mercy  on  his  children.  The  minister 
made  an  cifort  to  address  them,  but  found  every  thing  he 
attempted  to  say  far  beneath  the  subject.  God  was  there 
doing  his  own  work  —  to  this  God  he  kneeled  and  prayed, 
and  then  left  them.  The  result  was,  that  the  son  and 
several  of  his  children  were  converted,  and  the  good  old 


OK,     THE     FAMILY    ALTAR.  171 

man  could  say  with  Simeon,  *'Now  Lord  lettest  thou  thy 
servant  depart  in  peace,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy 
salvation." 

FAMILY  PRAYER  ESTABLISHED  BY  A  CHILD. 

The  Rev.  John  Baily,  an  eminent  divine  of  the  17th 
century,  was  so  honored  of  God  as  to  be  made  the  instru- 
ment of  the  conversion  of  his  own  father,  while  he  was 
yet  a  child.  His  mother  was  a  very  pious  woman,  but  his 
father  was  a  wicked  man.  The  good  instructions  and 
frequent  prayers  of  the  former  were  so  blessed  to  the 
Boul  of  little  John,  that  he  was  converted  to  God  while 
very  young :  and  having  a  remarkable  gift  in  prayer,  his 
mother  wished  him  to  pray  in  the  family.  His  father, 
overhearing  him  engaged  in  this  exercise,  was  so  struck 
with  remorse  and  shame  at  finding  his  child,  then  not 
above  eleven  or  twelve  years  of  age,  performing  that  duty 
in  bis  house,  wliich  lie  had  neglected  himself,  that  it 
brought  on  a  deep  conviction  of  his  wretched  state,  and 
proved,  through  the  Divine  blessing,  the  means  of  his 
conversion. 

But  some  one  may  present  a  counter  statement  to  these 
facts  in  his  own  experience,  or  the  experience  of  others, 
in  which  such  results  have  not  followed  from  the  observance 
of  family  worship.  Then  we  say  there  must  be  some- 
thing wrong  in  the  family  devotions  from  which  God  with- 
holds his  blessing.  "  Ye  ask  and  receive  not  because  ye 
ask  amiss."     Perhaps  the  service  is  a  cold  and  heartless 


172  CORNELIUS    OF    CiESAREA; 

form,  "witliout  tlic  true  spirit  of  devotion,  -svithont  faitli. 
Let  not  such  men  think  that  they  shall  receive  any  thing 
of  the  Lord.  Perhaps  the  difficulty  is  more  obvious  and 
tangible.  There  may  be  discrepancy  between  the  family 
prayers  and  the  practice.  The  devotions  of  the  altar  are 
falsified  by  the  life.  Such  prayers  are  an  abomination  to 
the  Lord,  and  are  "without  any  moral  power  upon  the 
household.  But  even  when  the  devotions  and  the  life  are 
in  harmony,  as  in  Cornelius,  there  may  be  discourage- 
ment, because  of  no  visible  tokens  of  the  divi-ne  blessing. 
AVe  say  visible  tokens,  for  the  blessing  of  God  must 
descend  and  abide  upon  the  home  of  prayer.  The  blessing 
may  linger,  but  it  will  come. 

THE    DISCOURAGED    FATHER. 

The  Rev.  A.  D.  Merrill  states  that  there  was  once  a 
pious  father,  with  seven  children,  who  had  maintained  the 
worship  of  God  in  his  family  until  all  his  children  had 
grown  up  to  manhood  and  womanhood,  and  not  one  of 
them  had  been  as  yet  converted  to  God.  At  last  the  old 
man's  faith  began  to  fail  in  relation  to  the  promise,  and 
growing  "weary  and  faint  in  his  mind,"  he  resolved  to 
give  up  his  family  worship,  and  confine  his  devotions  to 
the  closet,  and  to  leave  his  children  to  do  as  they  pleased. 
But  before  he  finally  proceeded  to  do  this,  he  concluded 
to  call  his  children  together  once  again,  to  pray  with 
them,  and  explain  to  them  his  reasons  for  this  course. 
Being  assembled,  and  taking  up  the  "  old  family  Bible," 


OR,    THE     FAMILY     ALTAR.  173 

from  whicli  lie  had  so  often  read  to  them  "  the  words  of 
eternal  life,"  he  thus  addressed  them:  —  "  My  children, 
jou  know  that  from  jour  earliest  recollection  I  have  been 
accustomed  to  call  you  together  around  this  altar,  for 
family  worship.  I  have  endeavored  to  instruct  you  in 
the  ways  of  the  Lord,  and  to  imbue  your  minds  with  the 
truth.  But  you  have  all  grown  up,  and  not  one  of  you  is 
converted  to  God.  You  are  yet  in  your  sins,  and  show  no 
signs  of  penitence.  I  feel  discouraged,  and  have  con- 
cluded to  make  no  further  efforts  for  your  salvation  —  to 
demolish  my  family  altar — to  confine  my  own  devotions  to 
the  closet,  and  thus  endeavor  still  to  work  out  my  own 
salvation,  while  I  leave  you  to  yourselves."  Upon  his 
speaking  thus,  first  one  and  then  another  fell  upon  their 
knees,  until  they  were  all  bowed  before  God,  and  besought 
him,  that  he  would  not  do  as  he  had  resolved,  but,  that  he 
would  still  continue  to  pray  for  them,  and  that  he  would 
do  it  now ;  for  they  were  now  ready  to  give  their  hearts  to 
God.  He  bowed  v;ith  them.  The  Spirit  descended 
according  to  the  promise,  and  before  they  rose  from  their 
knees,  they  were  all  made  happy  in  God.  One  of  their 
number,  who  was  married,,  and  away  from  home^  upon  re- 
turning on  a  visit,  and  hearing  what  great  things  the 
Lord  had  done  far  the  rest  of  the  family,  likewise  imme- 
diately submitted  to  God,  and  thus  were  they  all  saved, 
and  the  covenant  promise  fulfilled. 

Notwithstanding  the  admitted  and  manifold  blessings,  of 
15* 


174 

family   prayer,    it   is  painful   to    reflect    that,    in    many 
Christian  households,  there  is  no  home-altar. 

"Why  is  it  so  ?  There  must  be  serious  misapprehensions, 
imaginary  difliculties,  or  sinful  indifference,  that  lead  pro 
fessed  Christians  to  neglect  an  observance  so  reasonable, 
so  obviously  demanded  by  the  domestic  institution,  and  eo 
signally  owned  and  blessed  by  God.  We  can  only  glance 
at  some  of  the  difficulties  and  objections  which  have  been 
alleged  as  apologetic  of  this  neglect. 

1.  Do  you  say  you  have  no  gift  of  prayer  ?  That  you 
cannot  lead  the  devotions  of  your  family.  How  do  you 
know  this  if  you  have  never  made  the  attempt.  It  needs 
not  genius,  learning,  or  eloquence  to  pray. 

^  Pray'r  is  the  simplest  form  of  speech 
That  infant  lips  can  try.'' 

Does  it  require  great  natural  ability  to  gather  your 
family  around  you,  read  a  portion  of  Scripture,  sing  a 
familiar  hymn,  and  then,  kneeling  down,  unite  in  rendering 
thanks  to  God  for  his  goodness,  confessing  ycur  sins,  im- 
ploring the  divine  mercy,  and  asking  for  blessings  upon 
your  household  and  the  world  ?  Besides  the  difficulties 
presumed  exist  mainly  in  your  imagination :  an  earnest 
effort,  in  reliance  upon  the  promised  assistance  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  would  show  that  they  were  more  formidable 
in  prospect  than  in  reality.  If,  however,  you  still  persist 
in  your  inability,  then  use  some  form  of  prayer.  Better 
do   this,  than  dispense  with   the    stated  worship   of  the 


OR,     THE    FAMILY     ALTAR.  1 75 

family.  Procure  some  book  of  family  prayers.*  This  re- 
commendation to  use  a  form  is  intended  to  apply  only  in 
extreme  cases,  where  the  question  is  either  to  pray  with  a 
form,  or  not  to  pray  at  all.  For  we  are  convinced  that  the 
best  of  all  prayers  in  domestic  worship,  as  elsewhere,  are 
those  which,  without  artificial  helps,  flow  from  hearts 
which  "God  hath  touched." 

2.  But  you  say,  I  never  saw  any  great  advantage  in 
this  service.  It  has  always  seemed  a  dull  and  formal 
observance  wherever  I  have  seen  it.  But  it  need  not  be 
BO  —  it  ought  not  to  be  so.  Where  can  we  feel,  if  not 
w^hen  gathering  our  loved  ones,  we  take  them  with  us  to 
the  mercy-seat  ?  Let  your  whole  soul  be  thrown  into  the 
devotions ;  let  your  heart  and  voice  be  summoned  to 
praise  the  Lord  in  some  sweet  song  of  Zion,  and  it  will 
not  be  a  dull  and  formal  service,  but  one  full  of  life,  and 
commingling  sympathies,  and  heavenly  delight.  Instead 
of  saying  it  is  dull  and  wearisome,  you  will  often  be  con- 
strained to  say  — 

'Tis  like  a.  little  heav'n  below." 

Dr.  Hamilton  relates  an  incident,  illustrating  how  de- 
lightful and  soul-satisfying  this  household  worship  may 
become,  if  conducted  with  spirit  and  fervor. 

"  I  was  once  told  of  a  cottage  patriarch  whc  was  born 
in  those  days  when  Scotland  had  a  church  in  almost  every 

■■'■  We  would  specially  commend  the  works  of  Drs  Kurta  aid 
Ilarkey,  or  Prayers  for  Families,  by  Jenks. 


176  CORNELIUS     OF     C  .15  S  A  11  E  A  ; 

house.     There  was  one  in  his  fatlier's  dwelling  ;  and  when 
he  pitched  a  tent  for  himself  he  biiilded  an  altar.     Round 
that  altar  a  goodly  number  of  olive  plants  grew  up,  but, 
one  by  one,  they  were  either  planted  out  in  families  of 
their  own,  or  God  took  them,  till  he  and  his  old  partner 
found  themselves,  just  as  at  their  first  outset  in  life,  alone. 
But  their  family  worship  continued  as  of  old.     At  last  his 
fellow-traveller  left  him.     Still  he  carried  on  the  worship 
by  himself.     So  sweet  was  the  memory  of  it  in  his  father's 
house,  and  so  pleasant  had  he  found  it  in  his  own,  that  he 
could  not  give  it  up.     But  as  he  sat  in  his  silent  habita- 
tion, morning  and  evening,  his  quivering  voice  was  over- 
heard  singing   the    old    psalm-tune,    reading   aloud   the 
chapter,  and  praying  as  if  others  still  worshipped  by  his 
side.     He  had  not  found  it  dull." 

3.  But  you  say,  our  family  is  so  small.  *'  Where  two 
or  three  are  gathered  together  in  my  name,  there  am 
I  in  the  midst  of  them."  Are  there  two  or  three  in 
your  family  ?  Then  Christ  has  promised  to  be  with  you. 
Howard,  the  philanthropist,  never  neglected  family  prayer, 
though  often  there  was  no  one  but  his  valet  to  join  in  the 
service.  In  his  travels  through  England  and  on  the  con- 
tinent, he  invariably  called  Thomason  to  his  chamber,  at 
a  certain  hour,  to  unite  with  him  in  prayer.  If  there  be 
but  two,  though  it  be  but  a  Ruth  and  a  Naomi,  a  mother 
and  her  daughter,  your  fiimily  is  large  enough  to  worship 
God,  and  to  get  the  blessing  of  those  who  worship  him. 

4.  Some  plead  the  pressure  of  business  as  an  excuse  for 


177 

neglecting  this  service.  A  little  girl,  for  the  first  time 
passing  through  the  streets  of  a  crowded  city,  innocently 
inquired,  "  Mother,  when  do  the  people  get  time  to  pray 
here?"  Looking  at  the  hurry  and  bustle  along  the  busy 
streets,  we  might  ask  the  same  question.  And  the  fact 
is,  that  many  find  no  time  to  pray ;  and  some  even  say 
they  have  no  time  for  family  worship.  But  let  me  ask 
such,  for  what  end  has  God  given  you  time  ?  Was  not 
time  given  because  eternity  is  coming  ?  Is  business  more 
important  than  the  salvation  of  the  soul  ?  What  shall  it 
profit  a  man  to  gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose  his  soul  ? 
Unless  men  will  peril  their  own  souls  and  the  souls  of  their 
children  for  eternity,  they  must  take  time  for  God.  You 
are  commanded  to  "seek^rs^  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his 
righteousness,"  and  if  you  reverse  or  nullify  this  great 
moral  law,  you  do  it  at  the  peril  of  your  soul.  No  time 
for  family  prayer  !  — how  will  that  excuse  look  at  the  judg- 
ment-seat ? 

But  without  adverting  to  other  objections,  we  remark 
that  these  excuses  are  not  satisfactory  to  your  own  con- 
sciences, and  by  no  means  afiect  the  moral  obligation  of 
the  duty.  And  we  therefore  urge  upon  all  Christian 
parents  the  immediate  performance  of  household  worship. 
It  is  a  practice  commended  by  the  example  of  the  pious  in 
all  ages  of  the  church,  and  which  tte  Lord  has  signally 
owned  and  blessed.  It  tends,  when  rightly  conducted,  to 
foster  all  domestic  virtue  and  filial  piety,  investing  the 
home  with  a  sacred   beauty,  as  the  house  of  the  Lord. 


178  CORNELIUS     OF     C  .Tl  S  A  11  E  A  ; 

llow  can  you  look  upon  your  homes  and  children,  and 
omit  a  service  to  which  you  should  feel  prompted  by  every 
moral  instinct  and  gracious  impulse  ?  Shnll  the  very 
heathen  in  their  families  call  on  their  false  gods,  and 
Christian  households  have  no  token  of  their  relation  to 
the  true  and  living  God  ?  Let  it  not  be  so  in  your  family. 
A  child,  "witnessing  domestic  worship  in  the  house  of  a 
Christian  neighbor,  innocently  said,  "  We  have  no  God  at 
papa's  house."  Shall  any  of  your  children  ever  have 
occasion  to  say  this  of  their  home  ?  In  Greenland,  when 
a  stranger  knocks  at  the  door,  he  asks,  '^  Is  God  in  this 
house?"  If  they  answ^er,  "Yes,"  he  enters.  We  come, 
in  this  appeal,  to  your  dwelling,  and  knock  at  your  door 
with  the  Greenland  salutation,  "  Is  God  in  this  house  ?  " 
Alas  !  from  how  many  homes,  according  to  the  simple 
idea  of  the  child  just  mentioned,  the  response  comes,  "No 
God  here  ! " 

We  commend  this  subject  to  your  serious  thoughts.  It 
may  be,  your  indiifcrence  to  this  duty  is  attributable  to 
a  want  of  consideration.  It  may  be,  the  subject  has  never 
been  brought  before  your  minds  in  its  solemn  aspects  and 
its  imperative  claims.  It  has  been  our  object,  in  this 
chapter,  to  bring  this  much  neglected  domestic  service 
before  your  minds  as  a  solemn  duty,  connected  with  the 
highest  well-being  of-  the  household.  And  we  would  now 
urge  upon  all  the  neglecters  of  family  worship  a  prayerful 
consideration  of  w^hat  has  been  said. 

And  by  all  your  love  of  home  —  all  your  tender  soli- 


179 

citude  for  the  salvation  of  your  children  —  by  all  that  is 
solemn  and  affecting  in  that  final  meeting  of  the  family 
at  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ,  we  beseech  you  at  once  to 
put  away  all  apologies,  all  fear  and  shame,  and  take  up 
the  cross,  erect  the  altar  of  prayer  in  your  home,  and 
say,  "As  for  me  and  my  house,  we  will  serve  the  Lord." 

I  will  conclude  with  the  solemn  and  impressive  appeal 
of  the  Rev.  James  Hamilton  : 

"  Fathers  and  brethren,  some  of  you  are  the  heads  of 
happy  families  to-day.  All  that  I  ask  is,  that  you  would 
make  them  happier  still;  happy  not  only  in  your  love, 
but  in  the  love  of  God,  the  Saviour ;  happy  for  time  and 
through  eternity.  The  happiest  family  will  not  always 
be  so.  The  most  smiling  circle  will  be  in  tears  some  day. 
All  that  I  ask  is,  that  you  would  secure  for  yourselves  and 
your  children  a  friend  in  that  blessed  Redeemer,  who  will 
wipe  all  tears  from  all  faces.  Your  families  may  soon  be 
scattered,  and  familiar  voices  may  cease  to  echo  within 
your  walls.  They  may  go  each  to  his  own,  and  some  of 
them  may  go  far  away.  0  see  to  it,  that  the  God  of 
Bethel  goes  with  them,  that  they  set  up  an  altar  even  on 
a  distant  shore,  and  sing  the  Lord's  song  in  that  foreign 
land  !  They  may  be  taken  from  this  earth  altogether, 
and  leave  you  alone.  0  see  to  it,  that  as  one  after  another 
goes,  it  may  be  to  their  Father's  house  above,  and  to  sing 
with  heavenly  voices,  and  to  a  heavenly  harp,  the  song 
which  they  first  learned  from  you,  and  which  you  often 
sang  together  here  —  the  song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb. 


180  CORNELIUS     OF    C  .T.  R  A  R  E  A  . 

And  if  you  bo  t;ikcn,  and  some  of  them  be  left,  sec  to  it 
that  you  leave  tlicm  the  thankful  assurance  that  you  are 
gone  to  their  Father,  and  your  Father,  their  God,  and 
your  God.  And,  in  the  meanAvhile,  let  your  united  wor- 
ship be  so  frequent  and  so  fervent,  that  when  you  arc 
taken  from  their  head,  the  one  whose  sad  office  it  is  to 
supply  your  place,  as  priest  of  that  household,  shall  not 
be  able  to  select  a  chapter  or  psalm  with  which  your 
living  image  and  voice  are  not  associated,  and  in  which 
you,  though  dead,  are  yet  speaking  to  them.  And  thus 
my  heart's  wish  for  you  all, 

"When  soon  or  late  you  reach  that  coast, 
O'er  life's  rough  ocean  driven ; 
May  you  rejoice,  no  wanderer  lost* 
A  family  in  heaven/' 


C[inptn  /ifftr. 

BETHANY;    OR,   THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY. 

''  Now  it  came  to  pass,  as  they  went,  that  he  entered  into  a  certain 
village  ;  and  a  certain  woman  named  Martha  received  him  into  her 
house. 

"  And  she  had  a  sister  called  Mary,  who  also  sat  at  Jesus'  feet 
and  heard  his  word."  —  Luke. 

*'  Now  Jesus  loved  Martha,  and  her  sister  and  Lazarus."  —  John. 

"  My  soul  was  sickened  within  me,  so  I  sought  the  dwelling  place 
of  joy; 

And  I  met  it  not  in  laughter ;  I  found  it  not  in  wealth  or  power ; 
But  I  saw  it  in  the  pleasant  home,  where  religion  smiled  upon 

content, 
And  the  satisfied  ambition  of  the  heart,  rejoiced  in  the  favor  of  its 

God."  —  TuppER. 

This  home-scene  is  among  the  most  cherished  in  Chris- 
tian memory.  Bethany,  though  a  place  of  great  antiquity, 
and  otherwise  distinguished,  is  only  recognized  in  sacred 
history,  as  "the  town  of  Mary  and  her  sister  Martha." 
That  rural  village  on  the  eastern  slope  of  the  Mount  of 
Olives,  is  remembered  only  as  the  home  of  this  pious 
family. 

With  the  few  historic  glimpses,  we  readily  picture  to 
our  fancy  that  quiet  home  on  the  mountain  side,  "  far 
from  the  world's  ignoble  strife,"  surrounded  by  the  ever- 
varying  and  beauteous  face  of  nature. 

16  (181) 


182 

Two  sisters  and  an  only  brother  constitute  tlic  family 
group.  Bereaved  of  their  parents,  and  secluded  from  the 
world,  we  can  easily  conceive  how  they  would  cleave  to 
each  other  in  sisterly  sympathy  and  brotherly  affection. 
It  was  moreover  a  Christian  family.  Educated  in  the 
Hebrew  faith,  and  observant  of  that  ancient  form  of 
worship,  they  seemed  to  have  glided  almost  unconsciously 
from  the  shadow  to  the  substance,  from  the  type  to  the 
anti-type,  from  Moses  to  Jesus.  The  Gospel  history  gives 
no  circumstantial  account  of  their  transition  from  Judaism 
to  Christianity;  but  indicates  clearly  their  ardent  and 
undissembled  attachment  to  Christ  and  his  mission. 
"  Though  as  yet  there  had  been  no  formal  renunciation  of 
their  former  faith  and  worship  —  no  seclusion  from  their 
brethren  according  to  the  flesh  —  still  holier  fire  had  been 
kindled  upon  their  ancient  family  altar,  and  holier  incense 
had  risen  from  their  hearts,  than  even  ascended  from 
golden  censers."  The  fact  of  their  receiving  the  despised 
Nazarene  into  their  household,  subjecting  themselves  to 
odium  and  persecution,  was  at  once  an  evidence  of  their 
personal  friendship  and  affection  for  the  Savior,  and  a 
practical  recognition  of  Christ  as  the  promised  Messiah, 
the  hope  of  Israel,  and  the  Savior  of  his  people. 

"With  their  personal  friendship  and  affection  for  Jesus 
as  a  man,  there  was  united  a  religious  faith  which  led 
them  to  confide  in  him  as  their  Savior.  There  was  some- 
thing more  than  a  mere  expression  of  natural  affection 
in  Mary's  box  of  ointment  poured  upon  the  Savior's  feet. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  183 

It  was  a  beautiful  testimonial  to  her  Lord  —  a  precious 
memorial  of  her  faith — an  act  of  pious  devotion,  imparting 
a  fragrance  of  sanctity  to  her  name,  which  has  rendered 
it  illustrious  and  immortal. 

We  see  in  this  home  all  that  is  beautiful  and  lovely  in 
fraternal  aifection  and  domestic  harmony  —  sanctified  by 
divine  love  —  a  model  Christian  family.  It  is  not  strange 
that  such  a  home  should  attract  the  special  notice  of 
Jesus.  That  amid  the  pressure  of  his  trials,  and  weariness 
of  his  labors,  he  should  seek  repose  in  this  quiet  home  of 
love,  around  which  there  seemed  to  linorer  somethinix  of 
the  beauty  and  fragrance  of  the  primeval  Eden.  How 
sweet  and  refreshing  to  the  Savior,  after  the  toils  of  the 
day,  amidst  the  rude  collisions  of  the  world,  and  the  sad 
wrecks  of  sin,  to  retire  to  this  peaceful  household  of  love 
and  religion,  there  to  receive  that  responsive  sympathy, 
and  those  kindly  ministries  of  afiection,  so  soothing  to  his 
Bensitive  heart,  so  grateful  to  his  human  and  social  nature  ! 
It  was  indeed  a  green,  genial  spot,  amid  the  barren  wastes 
of  the  world,  where  his  sad  and  weary  heart  found  repose 
from  the  trials  of  a  hard  and  toilsome  life. 

Thanks  to  this  pious  family  for  giving  to  our  common 
Lord,  a  momentary  respite  from  his  toils,  and  such  soul- 
refreshing  entertainment  amidst  his  sorrows.  Thanks  for 
his  sake,  whom  not  having  seen  we  love ;  thanks  for  our 
own  sakes,  in  that  we  have  thus  a  glimpse  of  Jesus  in  the 
social  relations.     In  his  public  ministery  we  are  alterna- 


184  BETHANY;    OR, 

tely  awed  by  the  grandeur  of  his  miracles,  the  outflashings 
of  his  divine  glory,  and  touched  by  his  pity  and  tender- 
ness to  the  afflicted  and  sorrowful ;  but,  in  the  family  at 
Bethany,  we  see  the  social  phase  of  his  character,  we  see 
him  as  the  companion  and  friend,  honoring  and  reciprocat- 
ing those  graces  of  friendship  and  kindliness,  those  social 
and  domestic  attachments  which  beautify  the  home  on 
earth  and  make  it  a  type  and  an  emblem  of  heaven. 

With  these  glimpses  of  the  family  at  Bethany,  and  the 
gospel  record,  that  *' Jesus  loved  Martha,  and  her  sister 
and  Lazarus,"  we  have  pictured  to  our  minds  a  home- 
scene,  the  most  lovely  and  attractive,  Jesus  in  the  midst, 
with  Martha  as  the  ministering  spirit,  Mary  as  the  devout 
and  listening  disciple,  and  Lazarus  the  mild  reflector  of  his 
glory. 

This  home-picture  naturally  suggests,  and  serves  to  il- 
lustrate the  following  phases  of  domestic  life,  viz :  — 
the  fraternal  relation — the  sphere  of  woman — home-cares 
—  home-afflictions  —  and  Christ  in  the  family,  the  dis' 
penser  of  light  and  joy,  in  times  of  darkness  and  of 
sorrow. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  185 


THE    FRATERNAL    RELATION. 

"  They  were  together  night  and  day 
Through  all  their  early  years  — 
Had  the  same  fancies,  feelings,  thoughts, 

Joys,  sorrows,  hopes,  and  fears  ; 
They  had  a  fellowship  of  smiles, 
A  fellowship  of  tears." 

No  one  can  contemplate  this  little  household  at  Bethany, 
without  feeling  that,  next  to  their  joy  in  God,  was  the  joy 
of  their  fraternal  love  and  unity.*  We  conceive  of  these 
sisters  and  their  brother,  as  living  together  in  the  inter- 
change of  the  kindest  fraternal  feeling,  and  all  those  deli- 
cate attentions,  and  graceful  evolutions  of  the  affections, 
which  so  beautify  the  home-circle.  There  is  an  indefinable 
pleasure  in  the  mere  conception  of  such  a  picture  of 
domestic  life.  Let  it  be  the  earnest  effort  of  every  band 
of  brothers  and  sisters  to  actualize  in  their  paternal 
home,  what  they  cannot  help  but  admire  in  the  family  at 
Bethany. 

Having  already  considered  the  primary  relations  of  the 
family,  we  now  turn  to  the  collateral  relations  of  the  house- 
hold, or  the  duties  of  — 

BROTHERS   AND    SISTERS. 

The  very  bonds  of  the  social  circle  teach  us  to  love  one 
another.     A  member  of  the  family  without  love  is  nothing 

*  We  use  the  term  fraternal  in  its  more  comprehensive  sense,  in- 
clusive of  sisterly  affection. 
1R* 


186 

but  a  cold  marble  image,  or,  ratber,  a  macbine,  an  annoy- 
ance, a  sometbing  in  tbe  way  to  vex  and  pain  us.  Tbe 
social  relations  not  only  teach  love,  but  demand  it.  Take 
any  family,  wbere  tbere  is  a  want  of  affectional  unity  — 
wbere  tbere  is  selfisb  ambition  or  jealousy  and  distrust 
among  tbe  members  of  tbe  bousebold,  and  it  must  of 
necessity  be  a  discordant  and  an  unbappy  family.  Tbere 
may  be  punctilious  decorum  and  formal  politeness,  even 
*' tbreatening  urbanity,"  and  yet  witb  all  tbis  tbere  is  no 
true  peace  or  bappiness.  Tbe  bousebold  wants  love, 
and  if  it  will  not  bave  tbat  it  must  suffer ;  and  it  ougbt 
to  suffer. 

It  must  be  obvious,  tberefore,  tbat  a  proper  regard  to 
tbis  relation  of  brothers  and  sisters  is  essential  to  tbe 
peace  and  bappiness  of  bome. 

Tbe  duties  of  tbe  fraternal  relation  are  founded  ulti- 
mately upon  tbe  will  of  God  as  expressed  in  tbe  relation 
itself,  and  its  inseparable  connection  witb  tbe  well-being 
of  tbe  family.  As  in  nature  tbere  are  two  great  laws  of 
barmony  —  tbe  central  gravitation  and  cohesive  affinity, 
so  in  tbe  domestic  economy  we  have  two  great  principles 
of  social  harmony  —  filial  affection  and  fraternal  affinity. 
The  heart  of  tbe  child  tbat  turns  to  the  mother,  is  drawn 
to  tbe  brother  or  sister  that  was  nurtured  on  the  same 
bosom.  Indeed,  there  can  be  no  true  filial  affection  that 
does  not  involve  the  fraternal,  when  the  relation  exists  to 
call  it  forth.  They  are  as  inseparable  as  attraction  and 
cohesion  in  nature.      And  ordinarily,   as   in   these   two 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  187 

forces  of  nature,  the  fraternal  affinity  is  in  proportion 
to  the  filial  love. 

Children  cannot  truly  love  their  parents  without  loving 
one  another ;  but  as  in  nature  the  central  and  cohesive 
forces  may  be  disturbed  and  the  harmony  destroyed,  so 
may  there  be  admitted  into  the  household  counteracting 
moral  forces,  producing  disorder  and  repulsion  among  the 
members  of  the  family.  And  as  the  very  charm  of  home- 
life  depends  essentially  upon  the  affectional  harmony  among 
the  younger  members,  this  subject  cannot  fail  to  assume  its 
just  degree  of  importance  in  our  portraiture  of  the  home- 
scenes  of  the  New  Testament. 

There  is  doubtless  a  congenital  affinity,  an  instinctive 
attraction  between  children  of  the  same  parentage.  It 
is  something  more  than  mere  congeniality,  for  that  may 
not  always  exist  between  brothers  and  sisters.  It  is  some- 
thing more  than  friendship  —  an  inborn  feeling  of  affinity, 
more  delicate,  exquisite,  and  intense  than  the  purest  friend- 
ship. That  there  is  such  a  natural  affinity  is  evidenced  by 
our  own  consciousness,  and  from  the  fact  that  no  discords 
are  so  universally  odious  and  repulsive  as  those  existing 
among  children  of  the  same  household. 

The  very  words  expressive  of  the  fraternal  relation 
touch  a  responsive  chord  in  every  heart.  When  William 
Penn  met  the  Indians,  and  uttered  those  noble  terms  of  a 
'common  brotherhood,  "We  are  one  flesh,  and  one  blood,'* 
they  responded  to  the  fraternal  appeal  in  these  memorable 


188  B  K  T  II  A  N  Y  ;     OR, 

words,  "  We  will  live  in  love  with  William  Pcnn  and  his 
children  as  long  as  sun  and  moon  shall  endure." 

But  even  stronger  than  this  felt  brotherhood  of  hu- 
manity, is  the  fraternity  of  the  household.  To  those 
who  in  childhood  and  youth  have  answered  to  the  call 
of  brother  and  sister,  the  words  acquire  a  beauty  and 
sanctity  that  live  in  us  forever.  The  natural  affinity  is 
fostered  and  strengthened  by  so  many  sweet  memories 
and  hallowing  associations.  There  is  the  nursery,  where 
their  infancy  was  watched  by  the  same  loving  eye,  their 
little  sorrows  soothed  and  forgotten  on  the  same  maternal 
bosom,  and  their  nightly  slumber  wooed  by  the  same 
cradle-song.  There  are  the  family  gatherings,  and 
winter  evenings  at  home,  and  the  rambles  in  summer 
fields,  the  excited  sympathies  about  the  couch  of  sickness, 
and  perhaps  in  the  chamber  of  death.  0  how  these  home 
joys  and  sorrows  tend  to  fuse  the  hearts  of  the  household 
in  mutual  sympathy  and  love.  The  very  relation  itself, 
with  its  manifold  associations,  all  tend  to  inspire  and  foster 
the  fraternal  union  and  affection. 

It  is  manifest,  then,  that  in  the  will  of  God,  revealed  ir. 
the  domestic  constitution,  the  welfare  of  its  members  we 
find  the  true  basis  of  the  fraternal  relation.  The  fraternal 
sentiment  must,  therefore,  be  in  harmony  with  the  mani- 
fested will  of  God  in  the  domestic  economy.  "  When  true, 
the  fraternal  sentiment  unites  congeniality  with  consan- 
guinity, and  develops  friendship  from  kindred  blood,  as 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  189 

the  parted  branclies  open  into  leaves  and  blossoms  and 
fruits,  kindred  in  their  aims  as  their  source." 

There  is,  indeed,  no  scene  on  earth  more  pleasant  and 
lovely  than  that  of  brothers  and  sisters,  who,  with  all  their 
differences  of  taste  and  temperament,  dwell  together  in 
mutual  devotion,  keeping  the  unity  of  the  spirit  in  the 
bonds  of  peace.  "Behold  how  good  and  how  pleasant 
it  is  for  brethren  to  dwell  together  in  unity !  It  is  indeed 
like  the  dew  of  Hermon,  that  threw  its  silver  veil  over 
mountain  and  valley,  and  refreshed  and  beautified  each 
tree  and  flower  with  a  baptism  from  heaven." 

In  view  of  the  importance  of  this  relation  of  the 
members  of  the  household,  allow  me  to  offer  some  sug- 
gestions that  may  be  conducive  to  a  right  apprehension 
and  observance  of  the  duties  of 


THE  FRATERNAL  RELATION. 

1.  And  my  first  suggestion  is,  to  avoid  with  special 
care  and  prayerfulness  those  passions  that  are  utterly 
destructive  of  all  true  fraternal  feeling.  Guard  against 
the  first  indications  of  a  spirit  of  jealousy  —  a  spirit 
which,  if  indulged,  will  paralyze  the  warm  and  generous 
feelings  of  the  youthful  heart,  and  infuse  the  deadliest 
poison  into  the  very  life-blood  of  the  social  nature.  If 
this  temper  once  gain  a  lodgment  in  the  mind,  there  will 
not  be  wanting  in  the  daily  routine  of  domestic  life  fancied 


190  BETHANY;     OR, 

partialities,  or  petty  favoritisms,  to  inflame  the  passions  and 
rend  the  bonds  of  fraternal  amity  and  love  ;  for, 

"  It  is  jealousy's  peculiar  nature 
To  swell  small  things  to  great ;  nay,  out  of  thought 
To  conjure  much,  and  then  to  lose  its  reason 
Amid  the  hideous  phantoms  it  has  formed." 

Different  endowments  of  mind,  and  other  idiosyncracies, 
may  determine  different  positions  of  honor  and  preferment 
to  the  different  members  of  the  household,  and  thus  there 
may  be  occasion  for  developing  these  latent  passions  of  the 
human  heart.  And  unless  the  first  kindling  of  the  passion 
be  suppressed,  it  will  engender  alienation  and  hatred,  strife 
and  every  evil  work.  We  see  the  sad  working  of  these 
evil  passions  in  the  first  human  family.  Let  the  Avretched 
Cain,  with  the  guilt  of  fratricide  upon  his  soul,  speak  in 
solemn  tones  of  warning  against  the  first  indulgence  of 
that  temper,  which,  in  its  outworking  *  mastery,  led  to 
results  so  sad  and  tragical.  Seek  by  divine  grace  to 
quench  the  first  sparks  of  these  subtle  and  wasting 
passions.  Honor  thy  father  and  mother  by  confiding  in 
their  impartial  love  and  discretion  in  the  distribution  of 
household  favors,  and  trust  that  a  discriminating  judg- 
ment and  generous  goodness,  and  not  a  selfish  partiality 
or  petty  favoritism,  prompt  their  favors  and  allotments 
to  the  different  members  of  the  family.  And  thus  by 
cherishing  a  true  filial  love,  you  will  strengthen  the  bonds 
of  fraternal  affection,  and  effectually  crush  those  meaner 
passions  of  envy  and  jealousy.     Thus  you  will  best  honor 


THE    CHRISTIAN    F  A  .»!  I  L  Y .  191 

the  primal  laws  of  domestic  barmonj,  cheer  the  hearts  of 
your  parents,  and  promote  the  great  end  of  the  fraternal 
relation. 

2.  Assuming  the  religious  element  as  essential  to  this 
as  every  other  domestic  virtue,  we  suggest  as  a  positive 
requisite  in  this  relation,  strong  fraternal  affection.  This 
is  here,  as  in  every  social  excellence,  the  bond  of  perfect- 
ness.  There  is  an  instinctive  feeling  of  affinity  between 
brothers  and  sisters,  which  may  prompt  to  many  expres- 
sions of  mutual  kindness  and  affection ;  but  without  the 
conservative  element  of  religious  faith  and  love,  this  mere 
instinctive  feeling  will  be  fitful  and  variable,  and  under 
trying  circumstances  may  be  wholly  counteracted  by  the 
forces  of  sinful  passions. 

From  the  variant  moods  of  temper,  perplexing  cares, 
and  the  conflict  of  different  temperaments  and  interests, 
there  will  be  occasion,  daily,  for  the  exercise  of  kindness, 
forbearance,  gentleness,  and  charity.  And  unless  there 
be  a  deep,  sanctified,  fraternal  love,  the  very  selfishness 
of  the  human  heart  will  occasion  angry  collision  and  strife 
—  each  one  seeking  to  centralize  in  self,  the  favors  and 
immunities  of  the  household. 

Without  a  pure  fraternal  love,  there  cannot  be  that 
mutual  deference  and  consideration  so  essential  to  domestic 
harmony.  "  All  cannot  have  all  the  favors,  and  the  division 
of  them  may  embroil  a  household  as  bitterly  as  the  division 
of  an  empire  has  embroiled  rival  heirs  of  thrones."  This 
natural  tendency  will  be  counteracted  by  a  love  which 


192  BETHANY;     OR, 

leads  each  to  consider  the  trials,  dispositions,  and  rights 
of  the  other.  It  will  inspire  a  sense  of  oneness,  of  essen- 
tial identity,  as  memhers  one  of  another.  And  that 
motto,  "every  thing  for  all,"  expressive  of  the  true  object 
of  society,  would  become  the  practical  sentiment  of  the 
household. 

It  is  easy  to  perceive  how  such  a  sentiment,  as  a  living, 
practical  truth,  would  excite  in  the  younger  members  of 
the  family,  gentleness,  mutual  sympathy,  and  fraternal 
unity.  It  is  equally  obvious  that  this  mutual  considera- 
tion would  operate  most  happily  in  those  cases  of  common 
occurrence  in  the  family,  where  there  is  a  special  demand 
for  patience  and  forbearance  from  the  stronger  towards 
the  weaker,  the  older  towards  the  younger,  the  more 
gifted  towards  those  with  less  natural  endowments ;  as 
well  as  for  those  vigils  beside  the  couch  of  sickness,  and 
that  quick  and  responsive  sympathy,  so  soothing  and 
sustaining  in  the  first  trials  and  sorrows  of  life.  How 
much  may  brothers  and  sisters,  by  this  affectionate  con- 
sideration, contribute  to  each  other's  progress  in  personal 
excellence  and  social  virtues  !  And  how  will  these  fra- 
ternal virtues  act  and  react  collaterally  with  manifest 
power,  and  in  the  social  as  in  the  natural  world,  it  is  the 
side-light  and  warmth  that  most  applies  the  cheering  rays 
from  above. 

The  following  extract  from  John  Angell  James,  will 
serve  to  illustrate  and  enforce  the  design  and  moral 
beauty  of  fraternal  affection  and  unity : — 


THE     CHRISTIAN     FAMILY.  193 

*^A  famil}^  of  grown  up  children  should  be  the  constant 
scene  of  uninterrupted  harmony,  where  love,  guided  by 
ingenuity,  puts  forth  all  its  powers  to  please,  by  those 
mutual  good  offices,  and  minor  acts  of  beneficence,  of 
which  every  day  furnishes  the  opportunity,  and  which, 
while  they  cost  little  in  the  way  either  of  money  or  labor, 
contribute  so  much  to  the  happiness  of  the  household. 
One  of  the  most  delightful  sights  in  our  world,  where 
there  is  so  much  moral  deformity  to  disgust,  and  so  much 
unkindness  to  distress,  is  a  domestic  circle,  where  the 
parents  are  surrounded  by  their  children,  of  which  the 
daughters  are  being  employed  in  elegant  or  useful  work, 
and  the  elder  brother  some  instructive  and  improving 
volume,  for  the  benefit  or  entertainment  of  the  whole, 
*****  Young  people  seek  your  happiness  in  each 
other's  society.  What  can  the  brother  find  in  the  circle 
of  dissipation,  or  amongst  the  votaries  of  intemperance, 
to  compare  with  this  ?  What  can  the  sister  find  in  the 
concert  of  sweet  sounds,  that  has  music  for  the  soul,  com- 
pared with  this  domestic  harmony  ?  or  in  the  glitter  and 
fashionable  confusion,  and  mazy  dance  of  the  ball-room, 
compared  with  these  pure,  calm,  sequestered  joys,  which 
are  to  be  found  at  the  fireside  of  a  happy  family?" 

3.  We  might  speak  of  those  mutual  acts  of  courtesy 
and  gentleness,  and  unaffected  urbanity,  which  so  beautify 
the  household.  These  graces  of  manner  are  the  delicate 
blossoms  of  the  more  substantial  domestic  virtues,  the 
tendrils  that  gracefully  adorn  the  altars  of  home,  and 
17 


194  BETHANY;     OR, 

diffuse  the  fragrance  of  love,  like  Mary's  box  of  ointment. 
AVe  have  often  seen  in  households,  otherwise  commendable, 
a  coarseness  and  bluntness  of  manners,  harshness  of  tone, 
and  even  severity  in  repartee,  that  have  marred  the 
beauty  of  the  home-scene.  On  the  other  hand  we  have 
witnessed  families,  where,  in  addition  to  the  more  substan- 
tial virtues,  were  seen  the  most  courteous  demeanor,  a 
gentleness  of  expression,  an  unstudied  refinement  of 
manners,  that  have  invested  the  fraternal  relation  with  a 
sort  of  poetical  beauty,  and  thrown  an  unearthly  charm 
about  the  home-circle. 

"We  can  only  offer  these  remarks  as  suggestions  upon 
this  point,  hoping  they  will  lead  brothers  and  sisters  to 
consider  for  themselves  how  much  their  attention  to  these 
gentler  graces  of  social  refinement,  may  contribute  to  the 
general  beauty  and  well-being  of  the  household. 

4.  The  crowning  duty  of  brothers  and  sisters  is  that 
of  being  mutual  helpers  in  the  development  of  individual 
character.  It  is  in  this  way  the  fraternal  relation  becomes 
subsidiary  to  the  main  design  of  the  domestic  economy,  in 
securing  the  moral  perfection  of  the  different  members  of 
the  household.  There  is  a  peculiar  adaptation  in  the  re- 
lation of  brothers  and  sisters,  from  likeness  and  unlike- 
ness  of  constitution,  to  develop  the  finest  harmonies  of 
character.  The  principle  to  which  we  refer  is  recognized 
by  Mrs.  Jameson,  in  her  strictures  upon  school  life. 

"I  am  convinced  from  my  own  recollections,  and  from 
all  I  have   learned  from   experienced   teachers  in  large 


TUE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  195 

scliools,  that  one  of  the  most  fatal  mistakes  in  the  training 
of  children  has  been  the  too  early  separation  of  the  sexes. 
I  say  has  been,  because  I  find  that  everywhere  this  most 
dangerous  prejudice  has  been  giving  way  before  the  light 
of  truth  and  a  more  general  acquaintance  with  that  primal 
law  of  nature,  which  ought  to  teach  us  that  the  more  we 
can  assimilate  on  a  large  scale  the  public  to  the  domestic 
training,  the  better  for  all.  There  exists  still,  the  impres- 
sion—  in  the  higher  classes  especially  —  that  in  early 
education,  the  mixture  of  the  two  sexes  would  tend  to 
make  the  girls  masculine  and  the  boys  effeminate,  but  ex- 
perience shows  us  that  it  is  all  the  other  way.  Boys 
learn  a  manly  and  protecting  tenderness,  and  the  girls 
become  at  once  more  feminine  and  more  truthful." 

These  sentiments  are  endorsed  by  our  own  judgment 
and  consciousness.  But  they  act  with  peculiar  force  in 
the  association  of  brothers  and  sisters.  There  is  just  that 
adaptation  of  the  one  to  the  other,  which  meets  a  great 
want  in  each  case,  which  scarcely  any  other  agency  can 
reach,  at  least  not  so  gently  and  efficiently.  How  beauti- 
ful to  behold  a  brother  assuming  the  office  of  counsellor 
to  a  younger  sister,  and  watching  each  unfolding  grace 
and  beauty  of  character  !  How  beautiful  to  see  an  older 
sister  watchful  over  a  brother,  encompassing  his  path  as  a 
guardian  angel,  imparting  a  refining  touch  to  his  coarser 
nature,  and  by  influences,  gentle,  but  mighty  and  forma- 
tive, moulding  his  character  after  her  highest  ideal  of 
the  great  and  good. 

We   cannot   fail  to  recognize   in   this   relation  a  most 


19G  BETHANY;     OR, 

beneficent  provision  for  the  perfection  of  individual 
character,  and  the  culture  of  the  heart  in  the  earlier  years 
of  life.  Those  whom  God  has  so  united  should  seek  in 
every  -worthy  way  to  be  mutual  helpers  to  each  other. 
How  may  the  sister,  with  her  quick  perception  of  the 
right,  and  her  feminine  purity,  act  as  an  earnest,  but  kind 
and  gentle  censor  of  a  youthful  brother,  checking  his 
wayward  impulses,  and  guiding  to  noble  ends  his  impas- 
sioned nature.  And  how  may  the  brother,  with  manly 
judgment  and  honor,  shield  a  sister  from  the  rude  storms 
of  the  world,  and  by  considerate  counsels  and  tender 
interferences,  divert  her  from  many  of  the  follies  of 
fashionable  life,  and  blandishments  of  pleasure.  0,  what 
a  beneficent  and  reciprocal  power  for  good  is  vested  in 
the  fraternal  relation  !  What  might  not  sisters  do,  by  the 
proper  exercise  of  their  sisterly  influence,  to  hold  back 
their  brothers  from  sinful  excesses,  and  those  snares  that 
beset  the  path  of  the  young !  And  what  controlling 
power  might  a  noble  brother  exert  on  sisters,  in  restraining 
them  from  the  foolishness  of  a  vain  and  flippant  life, 
indecent  costumes,  immodest  dances,  and  equivocal  friend- 
ships !  It  is  easy  to  perceive,  from  these  suggestions,  how 
manifold  and  beneficent  this  relation  may  become,  and 
was  doubtless  designed  to  be,  in  the  education  of  home. 

"  Would  we  know  what  brother  and  sister  have  been  to 
each  other,  listen  to  the  triumphal  song  of  Miriam,  as  she 
braced  anew  the  great  heart  of  the  law-giver  with  timbrel 
and  psalm ;  or  look  to  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  where  Mary 
and  Martha  stood  with  Him  who  was    the  Resurrection 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  197 

and  tbe  Life.  Do  we  ask  more  modern  instances,  stand 
under  the  open  heavens  and  remember  how  Caroline 
Herschel  shared  the  vigils  of  their  illustrious  explorer  — 
open  the  pages  of  Ncander,  and  think  of  her  whose 
devotedness  made  a  pleasant  home  of  his  otherwise 
solitary  study,  and  encouraged  him  in  his  noble  work  of 
tracing  out  the  progress  of  the  divine  life  throughout  all 
the  mazes  of  theological  controversy,  and  making  church 
hi.itory  a  book  of  the  heart,  instead  of  the  disputatious 
understanding.  Do  we  need  more  —  only  conjecture  the 
number  of  cases  nearer  at  hand  in  which  youth  have  been 
counselled  and  helped  on  through  years  of  preparation  to 
their  calling  or  profession  by  a  sacrifice  that  looked  not  to 
the  world  for  motive,  and  asked  not  of  the  world  reward 
for  its  success." 

But  this  culture  of  fraternal  affection  and  its  associated 
blessings  do  not  terminate  with  the  paternal  home.  It  is 
in  accordance  with  the  divine  method  that  the  affections 
shall  grow  outward  from  within;  so  that  the  children  who 
have  schooled  their  filial  and  fraternal  feelings  at  home, 
are  prepared  to  go  out  into  the  wider  sphere  of  humanity, 
with  hearts  that  throb  with  a  world-wide  brotherhood  and 
a  divine  and  heavenly  Fatherhood. 

Happy  the  home  where  the  children  dwell  together  in 
unity  and  love  !  Where  no  feelings  of  envy  or  jealousy 
interrupt  the  flow  of  kindly  sympathy.  Where  brothers 
and  sisters  are  gentle  and  considerate ;  and  by  mutual 
devotion,  seek  to  strengthen  the  bonds  of  fraternal  affec- 
17* 


198  bktiiany;    or, 

tion.  Such  homes,  like  the  holy  family  of  Bethany,  v,\]] 
attract  the  favor,  and  secure  the  enriching  and  perpetual 
benediction  of  the  Savior. 

Let  all  apply  these  thoughts.  Children,  apply  them, 
and  be  kind  in  all  you  do  and  say.  Youth,  apply  them, 
and  be  thoughtful  where  you  are  often  tempted  to  be 
reckless.  Elders,  apply  them,  and  never  allow  care  or 
worldliness  to  chill  the  better  affections  of  early  days. 
Deep  in  the  heart  let  the  old  home  live,  and  its  pleasant 
memories,  brightened  by  kindly  offices,  open  ever  into 
immortal  hopes.  Old  things  must  pass  away,  but  from 
the  Christian  they  can  only  pass  away  by  being  all  made 
new  —  new  in  a  spirit,  that  remembers  best  when  pro- 
gressing most,  and  crowns  all  friendships  with  charity 
divine. 

II. 

THE   POSITION   AND    SPHERE    OF   WOMAN. 

"  Then  Jesus    ....    came  to  Bethany There  they 

made  him  a  supper ;  and  Martha  served.  Then  took  Mary  a 
pound  of  ointment  of  spikenard,  very  costly,  and  anointed  the 
feet  of  Jesus,  and  wiped  his  feet  with  her  hair." — Jodn. 

"So  woman,  horn  to  dignify  retreat, 
Unknown  to  flourish,  and  unseen  be  great, 
To  give  domestic  life  its  sweetest  charm, 
With  softness  polish,  and  with  virtue  warm. 
Fearful  of  fame,  unwilling  to  be  known, 
Should  seek  but  Heaven's  applauses  and  her  own." 

H.  More. 

The  above  quotations  from  the  gospel  record  present  a 

new  phase  of  the  home  in  Bethany  —  a  phase  suggestive 


THE    CnmSTIAN    FAMILY.  199 

of  the  special  topic  of  this  section.  The  attitudes  of  the 
two  sisters  indicate  the  true  sphere  and  mission  of  woman. 
Martha  serving,  and  Mary  in  her  outgushing  affection 
anointing  the  feet  of  Jesus,  is  a  pictorial  representation 
of  that  sphere  as  home,  and  that  mission  as  one  of  the 
affections,  and  in  those  relations  and  kindly  offices  which 
specially  pertain  to  the  affections. 

The  subject,  in  addition  to  its  inherent  importance, 
acquires  special  interest  from  the  fact  that  the  voice  of 
Mary  Wolstoncroft,  claiming  masculine  freedom  for  her 
sex,  has  found  a  thousand  echoes  in  our  land,  demanding 
a  reform  of  our  social  system  in  favor  of  what  is  technically 
styled  "  woman's  rights."  The  claim  of  these  modern  agi- 
tators, though  radically  unphilosophical,  and  preposterous 
in  many  of  its  details,  is  nevertheless  deserving  of  some- 
thing more  than  a  passing  sneer,  or  the  taunt  of  fanaticism. 
For  under  much  that  is  flippant  and  extravagant,  are  signi- 
cant  truths.  The  cry  itself  indicates  a  spreading  conviction 
that  woman  is  not  fulfilling  her  whole  work  in  the  social 
economy ;  which  is  a  fact  deserving  our  consideration.  It 
moreover  indicates  something  wrong  in  the  working  of  a  sys- 
tem which  dooms  thousands  of  the  sex  to  self-wasting  and 
life-long  toils,  which  barely  keep  off  cold  and  starvation. 
"Who  can  read  that  touching  "Song  of  the  Shirt,"  by  the 
noble  bard  of  Freedom,  without  having  his  soul  stirred  with 
something  of  the  feeling  that  is  now  crying  for  reform. 
And  who  can  think  of  that  darker  wrong  done  to  woman 
in  that  strange  and  unrighteous  judgment  of  men,  which 


200  BETHANY;     OR, 

Btniles  upon  the  destroyer  of  innocence,  passing  over  his 
"  deep  damnation"  as  a  venial  thing,  while  it  dooms  the 
victims  of  his  seductive  arts,  the  Magdalens,  to  perpetual 
infamy.  These  things  do  indicate  something  radically- 
wrong  in  our  social  system ;  and  -sve  should  at  least  be 
respectful  and  tolerant  towards  those  who  cry  for  reform, 
even  if  its  tones  and  utterances  seem  to  us  too  boisterous 
and  extravagant  for  gentle  lips. 

But  with  all  these  concessions,  w^e  arc  still  as  confident 
that  the  special  reform  contemplated  by  these  dreamers, 
and  the  method  proposed  for  its  accomplishment,  are  radi- 
cally wrong,  and  if  actualized  would  be  introductory  to 
social  evils  infinitely  worse  than  the  existing  wrong  which 
we  unitedly  deprecate.  For  any  scheme  which  would  take 
woman  from  the  quiet  sphere  of  home,  to  speculate  in  the 
market,  scale  the  unsheltered  heights  of  ambition,  or  in 
any  way  make  her  the  rival  of  man  in  pursuits  which 
demand  the  implements  of  muscular  toil  —  his  ruder 
nature  and  sterner  will  —  we  believe  to  be  a  monstrous 
error ;  a  scheme  not  only  at  variance  with  the  will  of 
God,  as  expressed  in  the  original  creation,  but  destructive 
of  the  spherical  unity  of  life,  and  the  great  end  of  the 
domestic  economy. 

Woman  was  designed  to  move  in  a  different  sphere  from 
man.  The  delicacy  of  her  physical  organization — her 
peculiar  sensibilities,  and  the  intuitions  of  her  nature, 
indicate  that  sphere  with  unmistakable  certainty.  Every 
w  Oman  conscious  of  her  true  dignity  glories  in  her  sphere, 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  201 

as  the  moon  in  her  orbit.  And  every  attempt  to  change 
that  sphere,  assails,  as  has  been  justly  said,  a  great  and 
beautiful  law  of  nature,  and  makes  a  demand, which  the 
general  sentiment  of  her  own  sex  will  repudiate  —  I  refer 
to  that  principle  of  duality  which  runs  through  the  uni- 
verse, dividing  every  perfect  whole  into  two  parts,  assign- 
ing to  each  its  own  appropriate  work.  It  is  the  duality 
of  day  and  night,  of  the  leaf  and  the  flower,  of  the  hand 
and  the  heart.  Thus  woman  is  the  counterpart  of  man. 
She  is  equal  to  him,  not  because  she  has  the  same  work  to 
accomplish,  but  a  work  equally  great,  a  work  essential  to 
the  complete  circle  of  human  duty,  to  the  consummation 
of  human  destiny. 

The  question  of  the  equality,  or  comparative  merits  of 
the  sexes,  started  by  this  reform,  is  the  most  useless  and 
impertinent  ever  excited  by  controversy.  From  the  very 
nature  of  the  case  a  decision  of  the  question  either  way 
would  be  wrong;  for  there  is  no  admissible  ground  of 
comparison  between  the  two  sexes.  "You  might  as  well 
inquire  which  of  any  two  of  the  great  essential  elements 
of  existence,  or  laws  of  matter,  or  faculties  of  mind,  could 
best  be  spared ;  you  might  as  well  debate  the  comparative 
merits  of  spring  and  autumn,  of  morning  and  evening, 
of  oxygen  and  hydrogen,  of  memory  and  hope,  of  the 
centripetal  and  centrifugal  attractions.  Each  holds  its 
title  by  the  ordaining  of  a  divine  plan ;  and  the  displace- 
ment of  either  from  its  sphere  would  be  a  resolution  of  the 


202  BETHANY;     OR, 

whole  system  into  chaos."*  The  whole  controversy,  there- 
fore, in  its  aim  is  «i  monstrous  absurdity,  and  a  most  imper- 
tinent effort  to  put  asunder  what  God  has  joined  together. 

But  what  are  the  distinguishing  peculiarities  of  the 
sexes,  which  indicate  their  respective  spheres  ?  It  will 
not  do  to  press  this  question  too  far  by  any  formal  analysis, 
lest  we  fall  into  the  very  error  against  which  we  are  con- 
tending. And  yet,  in  addition  to  peculiarities  already 
indicated,  we  may  assert,  in  the  language  of  the  eloquent 
divine  just  quoted,  "  that  the  distinguishing  faculty  of 
man  is  mental  concentration ;  that  of  woman,  moral 
impulse.  Woman  is  the  representative  of  affection  ;  man 
of  thought.  Woman  carries  her  strength  in  her  heart ; 
man^  in  his  head.  Neither  one  monopolizes  the  special 
department ;  but,  by  eminence,  he  is  intellect  —  she  is 
love."  Coleridge  has  the  same  sentiment  —  "A  woman's 
head  is  usually  over  ears  in  her  heart.  Woman  has  more 
heart  than  man.  She  was  made  to  love.  Her  crown  is 
in  her  hearty  and  not  on  her  head." 

This  peculiarity  indicates  at  once  her  sphere  and  her 
pre-eminent  greatness.  But  just  here  it  is  that  the  error 
of  these  reformers  begins.  They  repudiate  this  discrimi- 
nation, because  it  seems  a  disparagement  of  woman, 
making  her  inferior  to  man.  It  is  the  heresy  with  which 
we  are  all  more  or  less  infected,  that  the  heart  is  inferior 
to  the  head,  and  that  a  great  intellect  is  more  to  be 
honored  than   a  good   and  loving  spirit.      Hence  some 

*  Huntington's  Sermons. 


THE     CHRISTIAN     FAMILY.  203 

of  these  reformers  are  indignant  at  the  theory,  "that 
man  represents  the  head,  and  woman  the  heart,  and  refuse 
to  acknowledge  that  the  heart  is  greater  than  the  head, 
love  than  logic,  purity  than  eloquence,  holy  living  than 
able  reasoning."  And  yet  this  discrimination  is  recognized 
by  the  greatest  minds,  whose  sentiments  have  been  purged 
of  the  old  barbarous  error  which  sets  Napoleon  above 
Howard,  and  a  wicked  orator  over  a  working  saint. 

An  eloquent  man  of  our  age,  speaking  of  this  pre- 
eminence of  love  in  woman,  consecrated  to  deeds  of  kind- 
ness and  mercy,  says,  "  Her  life  is  poured  out  like  the 
fair  light  of  heaven  around  the  bedside  of  the  sick.  She 
comes  like  a  last  sacrament  to  the  dying  man,  her  very 
presence  an  alabaster  box  of  ointment,  exceeding  precious, 
filling  the  house  with  the  balm  of  its  thousand  flowers. 
Her  love  adorns  the  paths  wherein  she  teaches  youthful 
feet  to  tread,  and  blooms  in  amaranthian  loveliness  above 

the  head  laid  low  in  earth In  the  presence  of  such 

affection  as  this,  the  intellect  of  a  Plato  would  be  abashed. 
....  In  sight  of  such  excellence  I  am  ashamed  of 
intellect ;  I  would  not  look  upon  the  greatest  mind  that 
ever  spoke  to  ages  yet  unborn." 

It  is  because  the  great  dramatist  recognized  the  distinc- 
tion in  the  sexes,  that  some  have  found  fault  with  his 
female  characters,  as  inferior  to  his  characters  of  men. 
He  saw,  what  some  of  these  pseudo  reformers  seem  unable 
to  see,  how  woman  can  equal  man,  without  becoming  man ; 
or  how  she  can  differ  from  him  without  being  inferior  to 


204  B.  Ill  A  NY;     OR, 

him.  Eimality,  according  to  tlicir  ideas,  involves  identity, 
atid  is  tliercforo  incompatible  with  subordination,  and  runs 
directly  into  substitution ;  and  such  in  fact,  is  the  equality 
^Yhich  these  reforms  have  of  late  so  frequently  and  so 
excruciatingly  urged  upon  us.  On  this  ground  woman 
cannot  be  made  equal  with  man,  except  by  unscxing  and 
unsphering  her  —  a  thing  which  Shakspeare  was  just  as 
far  from  doing  as  nature  is.  "  To  say  then  that  his 
women,  according  to  this  view  of  the  matter,  are  inferior 
to  his  men,  is  merely  to  say  they  are  women,  as  they 
ought  to  be,  and  not  men,  as  he  meant  they  should  not 
be,  and  as  we  have  reason  to  rejoice  they  are  not."* 

This  modern  cry  for  "woman's  rights,"  is  founded  on  a 
total  misconception  of  this  relative  distinction  of  the 
sexes.  It  proceeds  upon  the  assumption,  that  equality 
and  diversity  are  wholly  incompatible;  and  that  conse- 
quently the  sexes  cannot  stand  or  sit  on  the  same  level, 
without  standing  in  each  other's  shoes  or  sitting  in  each 
other's  seats.  And  it  is  because  they  have  either  mis- 
taken, or  are  unwilling  to  acknowledge  the  principle,  that 
humanity  is  two-fold  and  is  perfect  only  in  the  man  and 
the  woman ;  the  one,  the  representative  of  the  intellect, 
the  other,  of  the  heart,  that  such  unreasonable  demands 
are  made  for  equality.  Much  that  is  said  upon  the 
subject  is  what  Napoleon  styles,  vagabondism  of  the 
imagination.     "I  do  not   like,"   said   he,   "women  who 

*  Hudson. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  205 

make  themselves   men,   any  more   than  I  like   men  who 
render  themselves  effemmate." 

But  we  dismiss  any  further  notice  of  the  vagrant 
reasoning  of  these  idle  dreamers,  and  return  to  the 
original  question.  What  is  the  sphere  of  woman  ?  If  there 
is  any  thing  reliable  in  the  inference  from  God's  creative 
act,  "male  and  female  created  he  them;"  if  her  delicate 
bodily  organization,  a  symbol  of  the  finer  issues  of  spirit, 
proves  any  thing  —  if  there  is  any  thing,  in  her  mental 
and  affectional  aptitudes,  indicative  of  her  mission  —  if 
that  law  of  the  Divine  operations,  by  which  different  con- 
trivances imply  a  variety  of  purposes,  establishes  any 
thing,  then  we  have  the  most  unquestionable  indications 
of  the  divine  intention  in  regard  to  the  sphere  of  woman. 
Man  is  the  representative  of  thought,  woman  of  afiection. 

Man  by  eminence  is  intellect  —  woman  is  love.  "  Is  it  \^ 
nothing  for  woman  to  remember  when  her  sex  is  made  the 
type  and  tabernacle  of  love,  that  we  have  ascribed  the 
loftiest  glory  even  to  the  Almighty  Father,  when  we  have  \ 
said  that  his  name  is  love?"  So  far  then  from  being  a 
disparagement,  it  is  the  highest  distinction  of  woman,  that 
she  is  the  type  and  tabernacle  of  love  —  that  her  highest 
characteristic  name  is  love.  And  this  indicates  at  once 
her  sphere  and  her  pre-eminent  glory.  This  sentiment  is 
beautifully  expressed  by  our  great  American  poet : — 

"  What  I  most  prize  in  woman 
Is  her  afifections,  not  her  intellect  1 

18 


200  B  K  T  II  A  NY;     OR, 

Tlie  i!)tcllect  is  Ijiiito,  but  tliL-  an'ix-tiiins 
Arc  infinite,  and  cannot  bo  exhausted. 
Compare  inc  with  the  great  men  of  earth  ; 
AVhat  am  I  ?     AVhy  a  pijijmy  among  giants  ! 
But  if  thou  lovest  —  mark  me!  I  say  lovestl 
The  greatest  of  thy  sex,  excels  thee  not !" 

In  correspondence  -with  this  distinctive   characteristic 
of  woman,  is  her  place  and  power  in  society.     And  whilst 
she  is  not  interdicted  the    higher  walks  of  science    and 
philosophy,  and  may  reap  all  the  honor  she  deserves,  as  is 
instanced  in  Mrs.  Somerville,  or  our  own  Miss  Mitchell  — 
yet  is  there  a  realm  all  her  own,  sacred  to  her  peculiar 
ministry.    It  is  the  sphere  of  home  and  the  affections.     SheA 
is  divinely  constituted  the  priestess  of  the  inner  temple ;    / 
and  to  her  are  entrusted  the  veiled  shrine  and  sacred  offices  / 
of  the  home-sanctuary. 

\ 

THE    CHRISTIAN    ASPECT    OF    WOMAN'S    SPHERE. 

"  For  contemplation  he,  and  valor  form'd  ; 
For  softness  she,  and  sweet  attractive  Grace  ; 
lie  for  God  only,  she  for  God  in  him." — Milton.    \^^ 

The  whole  spirit  and  teaching  of  the  New  Testament 
confirm  the  view  of  woman's  sphere,  which  we  have  just 
presented  from  a  simple  process  of  induction,  and  it  utters 
its  uniform  protest  against  the  impertinent  assumptions  of 
these  modern  reformers.  Whilst  the  Savior  showed  his 
estimate  of  woman  by  uniformly  saluting  her  with  the 
most  dignified  tenderness,  and  assigned  her  a  place  of 
charitable  ministration  in  the  Apostolic  Church,  he  never 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  207 

encouraged  any  publicity  that  would  interfere  with  home- 
duties.  Whilst  he  welcomed  her  as  a  listening  disciple, 
or  commended  her  devotion  in  anointing  his  feet,  or 
hovering  as  an  angel  of  love  about  his  path  of  sorrow,  he 
never  called  her  to  any  public  office  in  his  church,  or  com- 
missioned her  to  go  forth  as  a  public  teacher  of  mankind. 
His  gospel  met  its  warmest  reception  in  the  heart  of 
woman,  and  gave  new  lustre  to  her  domestic  virtues,  con- 
secrated her  affectional  nature  to  manifold  ministries  of 
mercy,  and  nerved  her  shrinking  delicacy  to  the  heroism 
of  the  martyr ;  but  it  never  produced  a  public  declaimer, 
an  Amazonian  disputant,  nor  a  shameless  contender  for 
political  and  ecclesiastical  rights.  It  raised  her  up  from 
Pagan  servility  to  her  true  social  position,  but  left  her  in 
her  own  sphere.  It  enlarged  the  sphere  of  her  influence, 
but  it  never  changed  her  mission. 
i^'  Christianity  so  far  from  interfering  with  the  sphere  of 
woman  as  ordained  in  the  beginning,  has  recognized  and 
honored  that  sphere,  and  given  a  higher  consecration  to 
her  mission.  "By  its  indestructible  reverence  for  the 
Virgin  Mother  of  our  Lord,  the  Christian  Church  has  not 
only  woven  into  its  sentiments  a  new  idea  of  woman,  but 
it  has  done  something  to  cancel  the  contempt  that  was 
thrown  upon  her  in  the  person  of  Eve,  the  seduced  of 
Satan.  If  woman  was  first  in  the  world  to  sin,  it  was  on 
her  breast  also  that  its  Redeemer  was  nourished ;  and 
Bethlehem  has  atoned  for  Eden.  Abating  its  supersti- 
tious excesses,  the  homage  paid  to  the  Madonna  is  a  con- 


208  BETHANY;    OR, 

sccration  of  womanhood  quite  becoming  a  religion  that 
displaced  Paganism,  and  condemns  sensuality."* 

This  position  of  woman,  indicated  by  her  very  constitu- 
tion and  moral    aptitude,  and   honored   by  Christianity, 
commends   itself  to   all   women,    conscious   of  her   true 
dignity  and  crowning  glory.     There  are  some  women,  of 
cold  hearts  and  masculine  nerves,  whose  Amazonian  gross- 
ness  and  vulgarity  have  displaced  their  native  gentleness 
and  delicacy,  who  may  aspire  to  public  station  and  manly 
fame,  and  affect  to  scorn  the  duties  of  home,  as  narrow 
and  degrading ;  but  every  true  woman  will  repudiate  such 
contempt   and   such  vainglorious  aspirations.     And  with 
her  intuitive  perception  of  what  is  orderly  and  beautiful 
in  the  social  system  as  ordained  of  God,  she  will  ask,  if 
woman  is  to  go  out  upon  the  busy  thoroughfares  of  life, 
who  is  to  keep  bright  the  home  and  train  the  infant  mind  ? 
If  she  is  to  rival  man,  amid  the  clamors  and  struggles  of 
the  outer  world,  who,  when  he  is  fevered  with  cares,  and 
turns  back  to  his  home,  shall  welcome  him  there,  and  with 
words   of  kindness   and   love,  soothe   his  weariness   and 
stimulate  his  flagging   spirits?     If  she  is  to  wrangle  in 
halls    of  debate,    and    become   giddy   with   ambition,    or 
drunk  with  fame,  who  shall  watch  by  the  sick-bed,  bind 
up  the  broken-hearted,  or  glide  on  missions  of  kindness 
and  mercy  to  the  homes  of  the  poor  and  sick  and  sorrow- 
ful?    Oh  !  no  ! — is  the  spontaneous  outburst  of  her  indig- 
nant rebuke — let  no  sacrilegious  hand  thus  profane  the  old 
*  Huntington. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  209 

sanctuaries  of  our  world,  by  diverting  the  ordained  priest- 
esses that  minister  at  their  shrines,  to  the  vulgar  cares  of 
outer  life  !  Let  no  Goth  or  Vandal  thus  ruthlessly  break 
down  our  domootic  altars,  and  make  desolate  our  beautiful 
homes !  Let  us  recognize  those  gentle  and  social  virtues 
which  are  peculiarly  our  own,  and  the  divine  ordination,  by 
which,  since  they  came  out  together  from  the  gates  of  Eden, 
woman  has  walked  side  by  side  with  man,  through  life's 
joys  and  sorrows,  conscious  that  woman  is  never  more 
honored, 

"  Than  when  the  homely  task  she  plies, 
With  cheerful  duty  in  her  eyes; 
And,  every  lowly  path  well  trod, 
Looks  meekly  upward  to  her  God." 

This  scene  in  Bethany  —  Martha  serving,  and  Mary 
engaged  in  a  ministry  of  love  beside  her  Savior,  reveals 
the  true  sphere  of  woman ;  as  home,  and  her  mission,  as 
one  of  the  affections. 

L  — HOME. 

"  For  nothing  lovelier  can  be  found 
In  woman,  than  to  study  household  good, 
And  good  works  in  her  husband  to  promote." — Milton. 

Let  no  one,  dazzled  with  the  glitter  of  outward  splendor, 
look  upon  household  duties  as  trifling  and  undignified. 
We  do  not  rightly  estimate  things,  if  we  fail  to  recognize 
in  the  elemental  school  of  the  family  the  most  important 
sphere  of  life.  Is  not  the  quiet  and  hidden  bosom  of  the 
18* 


210  bktiiany;   or, 

earth,  that  nurtures  with  hidden  treasures  the  germs  and 
roots  of  plants,  as  important  in  the  economy  of  nature 
as  the  sun  and  air,  which  combine  to  unfold  the  blossoms, 
and  ripen  the  clustering  fruits,  and  waft  as  incense  the 
sweet  perfumes  ?  Just  such  is  the  relation  of  the  quiet 
home  to  human  life.  There  the  germs  of  mind  and  of 
our  public  institutions  are  nurtured.  It  is  the  face  of 
woman  which  first  bends  over  the  breathing  child — ^looks 
into  its  eyes ;  and  it  is  her  prerogative,  by  manifold  offices 
of  love  and  duty,  to  mould  and  fashion  that  unfolding 
mind.  The  great  statesman,  philanthropist,  poet,  philo- 
sopher, and  the  humble  ambassador  of  heaven,  go  forth 
upon  their  several  missions,  having  received  the  first 
inspirations  and  formative  touches  in  the  secluded  home. 
The  heart  which  breathed  its  devotional  affection  upon  the 
opening  mind  of  childhood,  is  felt  in  the  pulsations  of  the 
great  heart  of  humanity.  The  voice  which  sings  the 
nursery  hymn  mingles  in  the  multitudinous  sounds  of  the 
wide  world.  The  hand  w^hich  rocks  the  cradle  moves  the 
world.  This  is  not  fancy  ;  but  according  to  the  historical 
fact  stated  by  a  distinguished  writer,  that  not  a  single 
reformer,  statesman,  or  saint,  has  come  to  influence  or 
adorn  his  age,  from  Jacob  to  Washington,  who  was  not 
reared  by  a  remarkable  mother  that  shaped  his  mind. 
And  is  such  a  sphere  to  be  viewed  as  too  narrow  for  the 
aspiring  ambition  of  women  who  seek  to  rival  man  in  the 
more  public  walks  of  life  ?  Nay !  she  who  trains  a  soul 
to  noble  aims  and  virtuous  deeds,  *'  stands  higher  in  the 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  211 

scale  of  benefactors,  than  he  who  unshackles  a  continent 
from  thraldom ;  for  she  adds  more  to  the  sum  of  human 
happiness,  if  we  estimate  the  effects  by  their  duration."* 

And  how  beneficent  may  be  her  influence  and  power  in 
this  sphere  as  a  wife !  Great,  indeed,  may  be  her  moral 
power  to  soothe  her  husband  in  despondency,  by  her 
quicker  intuitions  and  finer  moral  sense  to  guide  him 
in  times  of  perplexity,  or  pour  the  balm  of  her  own 
gentle  spirit  upon  his  sad  and  troubled  heart.  What  a 
touching  testimonial  to  the  mission  of  woman  in  this 
relation,  is  that  sorrowful  memorial  of  his  wife,  written 
by  Sir  James  Mackintosh  to  a  friend : 

"She  was  a  woman,"  he  writes,  "who,  by  the  tender 
management  of  my  weaknesses,  gradually  corrected  the 
most  pernicious  of  them.  She  became  prudent  from 
affection ;  and,  though  of  the  most  generous  nature,  she 
was  taught  frugality  and  economy  by  her  love  for  me. 
During  the  most  critical  period  of  my  life  she  preserved 
order  in  my  affairs,  from  the  care  of  which  she  relieved 
me.  She  gently  reclaimed  me  from  dissipation,  she 
propped  my  weak  and  irresolute  nature,  she  urged  my 
indolence  to  all  the  exertions  that  have  been  useful  or 
creditable  to  me,  and  she  was  perpetually  at  hand  to 
admonish  my  heedlessness  and  improvidence.  To  her  I 
owe  whatever  I  am  —  to  her  whatever  I  shall  be.  In  her 
»solicitude  for  my  interest  she  never  for  a  moment  forgot 
my  character.     Her  feelings  were  warm  and  impetuous ; 

*  Chalmers'  Memoirs,  vol.  i.  p.  246. 


212  in:  T  II  A  NY;   or. 

but  she  was  placable,  tender,  and  constant.  Such  was 
she  whom  I  have  lost;  and  I  have  lost  her  when  a  know- 
ledge of  her  worth  had  refined  my  youthful  love  into 
friendship,  before  age  had  deprived  it  of  much  of  its 
original  ardor." 

That  passage  in  Washington  Irving,  descriptive  of 
woman's  mission  in  adversity,  has  lost  nothing  of  its 
beauty  by  long  familiarity  : 

"  As  the  vine  which  has  long  twined  its  graceful  foliage 
around  the  oak,  and  been  lifted  by  it  into  sunshine,  will, 
when  the  hardy  plant  is  rifted  by  the  thunderbolt,  cling 
around  it  with  its  creeping  tendrils,  and  bind  up  its  shat- 
tered boughs  —  so  is  it  beautifully  ordered  by  providence 
that  woman,  who  is  the  dependant  and  ornament  of  man 
in  his  happier  hours,  should  be  his  stay  and  solace  when 
smitten  with  adversity  —  winding  herself  into  the  rugged 
recesses  of  his  nature,  tenderly  supporting  his  drooping 
head,  and  binding  up  his  broken  heart." 

It  is,  indeed,  a  beautiful  ordinance  of  divine  providence 
that  the  weak  should  sometimes  be  the  support  of  the 
strong.  "Woman,  the  graceful  dependant  of  man  in  his 
sunnier  hours,  becomes  his  consoler  and  strength  in 
adversity — 

"Wreathing  him  flowers  to  make  his  joys  more  bright; 
Or  when  the  storm  has  spread  its  darkest  shroud, 
To  gild  with  hope  the  rainbow  on  the  cloud." 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  213 

But  beyond  the  home-circle  opens  a  "wide  sphere  for  the 
beneficent  mission  of  woman.  It  is  a  beautiful  feature  in 
the  moral  economy  of  the  church,  no  less  than  of  nature, 
that  the  charities  of  life  are  pre-eminently  assigned  to 
female  enterprise.  And  as  Christianity  spreads  over  the 
earth  her  sphere  of  love  widens,  and  the  world  is  open  to 
her  ministry  of  mercy.  In  the  wide  range  of  ignorance, 
poverty  and  suifering,  she  may  perform  her  labors  of  love 
without  neglecting  the  primary  duties  of  home,  or  doing 
violence  to  her  womanly  nature  or  feminine  graces. 

She  may  not  plead  with  assembled  multitudes,  in  the 
platform  or  the  pulpit,  and  by  the  eloquence  of  speech 
stir  the  hearts  of  the  people  to  noble  deeds  of  philan- 
thropy—  but  she  can  plead  the  cause  of  humanity  in  the 
social  circle,  and  stimulate  others  by  her  example.  She 
can  glide  like  an  angel  of  mercy  through  the  dark  places 
of  a  great  city  pulsating  with  life,  and  minister  to  the 
lowly  in  their  ignorance  and  sorrow.  Yes,  in  the  homes 
of  the  poor  and  neglected,  she  may  go  with  the  gospel 
message,  and  the  gospel  charity  and  comfort,  and  in  the 
name  of  Jesus  bind  up  the  broken-hearted,  give  the  oil  of 
joy  for  mourning,  and  the  garment  of  praise  for  the  spirit 
of  heaviness. 

Look  at  Elizabeth  Fry  as  she  goes  on  her  errands  of 
mercy  to  prisons,  to  speak  and  read  to  the  outcast  crimi- 
nals, and  by  her  ministry  of  love  seeks  to  touch  their 
hearts  with  some  remembered  joy  of  innocence  and  child- 
hood, or  reading  from  God's  word  such  passages  as  "  Let 


214  BETHANY;     OR, 

the  wicked  forsake  his  way,  and  the  unrighteous  man  his 
thoughts,  and  let  him  return  unto  the  Lord,  for  he  will 
have  mercy  upon  him,  and  unto  our  God,  for  he  will 
abundantly  pardon,"  has  awakened  in  the  vilest  prodigals 
by  divine  grace  a  true  repentance,  and  then  pointed  them 
to  that  Savior  who  came  to  seek  the  lost,  and  who  heard 
the  prayer  of  the  dying  malefactor. 

Think  of  Dorothy  Dix^  our  American  Mrs.  Fry,  ex- 
claiming, "  In  a  world  where  there  is  so  much  to  be  done, 
there  must  be  something  for  me  to  do;"  and  then  devoting 
her  life  to  the  insane  and  vicious.  She  has  visited 
hundreds  of  maniacs  in  her  sacred  mission,  and  not  one 
has  she  found,  however  turbulent  and  fierce,  wholly  in- 
sensible to  the  influences  of  religion.  She  has  discovered 
the  power  of  the  religious  sentiment  over  these  shat- 
tered souls.  Her  quiet  worship  and  loving  heart  affect 
the  raving  maniacs  like  a  voice  from  heaven.  They  fall 
on  their  knees,  and  with  clasped  hands  look  upward,  as  if 
through  the  overhanging  darkness  they  caught  glimpses 
from  their  Father's  throne  and  love.  In  hundreds  of 
minds,  dark  and  chaotic,  has  her  gentle  voice  relumed  the 
almost  extinguished  light  of  reason.  What  a  glorious 
mission ! 

Woman  has  a  noble  sphere — at  home  and  abroad.  Man 
acts  with  greater  noise  and  brilliancy  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world,  as  he  leads  on  marshalled  hosts  to  the  battles  of 
Liberty ;  or  when  with  impassioned  eloquence  he  pleads 


THE     CHRISTIAN     FAMILY.  ^l3 

for  the  oppressed,  or  inspires  the  multitude  with  holj  zeal, 
and  leads  them  forth  to  nohle  deeds  of  philanthropy ;  hut 
he  does  not  achieve  a  greater  work  than  woman,  who  fulfils 
the  quiet  duties  of  home,  or  goes  along  the  shaded  paths 
of  misery  to  minister  to  the  sick  and  dying,  and  gathers 
gems  for  the  crown  of  her  rejoicing  from  the  very  dregs 
of  humanity. 

And  then  more  than  we  ordinarly  suppose,  even  the 
achievements  of  man,  of  all  that  is  great  and  good,  are 
consequentially  traceable  to  woman  in  some  way.  "A  man 
discovered  America-;  hut  a  woman  equipped  the  voyage.** 
So,  as  justly  remarked,  it  is  everywhere  ;  man  executes 
the  performance ;  but  woman  trains  the  man.  Every 
effectual  person  leaving  his  mark  on  the  world,  "is 
but  another  Columbus,  for  whose  furnishing  some  Isabella, 
in  the  form  of  his  mother,  lays  down  her  jewelry,  her 
vanities,  her  comfort." 

In  view  of  these  high  prerogatives  of  woman  in  all  holy 
ministries  of  the  affections,  at  home,  and  in  the  wide  field 
of  usefulness  which  Christianity  has  opened  up  to  her 
loving  heart,  and  her  soft  but  resolute  hand,  well  might 
our  own  admired  Mrs.  Sigourney  ask,  and  with  a  con- 
scious pride  in  the  glory  of  her  sex : 

"  Sisters,  are  not  our  rights  sufficiently  comprehensive 
—  the  sanctuary  of  home,  the  throne  of  the  heart,  the 
moulding  of  the  whole  mass  of  mind  in  its  first  formation? 
Have  we  not  power  enough,  in  all  realms  of  sorrow  and 
suffering  —  over  all  forms  of  want  and  ignorance  —  amid  all 


216  bkttiany;    or, 

iiiini>trati()iis  of  love,  from  llic  cradle-drcam  to  the  scaling 
of  the  sepulchre  ?" 

We   are   naturally   led   from   this   aspect   of  woman's 
sphere  and  mission  to  make  some  suggestions  on 


THE   EDUCATION  OF  DAUGHTERS. 

"  That  our  daughters  may  be  as  corner-stones,  polished  after  the 
similitude  of  a  palace." — David. 

*'  To  her  new  beauty  largely  given 

From  deeper  fountains,  looked  and  smiled, 
And,  like  a  morning  dream  from  heaven. 

The  woman  gleamed  within  the  child."  —  Sterling. 

We  cannot  say,  in  our  day,  what  Fenelon  said  in  his, 
that  nothing  is  more  neglected  than  the  education  of 
daughters.  There  are  everywhere  indications  of  an 
unusual  interest  upon  this  subject.  Almost  every  town 
and  village  is  adorned  with  seminaries  of  learning, 
crowded  with  the  daughters  of  our  land.  This  we 
regard  as  among  the  most  hopeful  signs  of  the  times  — 
symptomatic  of  an  advancing  civilization,  and  prophetic 
of  the  good  days  coming.  In  many  respects  we  hail  this 
increased  attention  to  female  education  with  more  hope 
than  the  multiplication  of  colleges ;  for,  as  Fenelon  says, 
"  The  education  of  women  is  more  important  than  that 
of  men,  since  the  latter  is  always  their  work." 

As  the  subject  is  merely  collateral  to  the  main  design 
of  this  volume,  we  have  space  to  offer  only  a  few  sug- 


THE    CHRISTIAN     FAMILY.  217 

gestions,  leaving  them  to  the  elaboration  of  the  reader's 
own  thoughts  and  reflections. 

1.  The  first  and  most  obvious  suggestion  is,  that  in  the 
education  of  our  daughters  there  should  be  special  refer- 
ence to  the  ordained  sphere  of  woman  —  home  and  the 
affections,  or  the  ministries  which  specially  pertain  to  the 
affections. 

"  That  our  daughters  may  be  as  corner-stones,  polished 
after  the  similitude  of  a  palace." 

This  language  of  the  Psalmist,  freely  interpreted,  is 
sufficient  to  define  the  idea  of  female  education.  The 
figurative  allusion  or  comparison  of  David  suggests  the 
idea  of  solidity  and  polish,  the  union  of  the  useful  and  the 
graceful  in  the  education  of  woman,  such  as  w^ill  adapt  her 
to  the  sphere  in  which  she  is  to  live  and  act,  the  support 
and  the  grace  of  social  life. 

The  usual  course  of  education  in  our  female  seminaries 
has  been  sanctioned  by  scholars  of  maturest  judgment. 
It  is  substantially  the  course  adopted  in  the  education 
of  young  men.  It  is  designed  to  give  the  fullest  scope  to 
the  development  of  mind,  leaving  the  feminine  instincts 
and  aptitudes  to  vindicate  their  own  prerogatives. 

A  thorougb  education  in  the  true  acceptation  of  the 
term  should  be  the  essential  thing,  and  what  are  styled 
the  graces  of  education  should  be  regarded  as  subordinate 
and  of  secondary  importance.  It  is  a  great  perversion  of 
the  true  order  of  nature,  to  make  accomplishments  the 
main  thing,  as  the  result  must  be  a  polished  vanity. 
19 


218  BETHANY;     OR, 

"Accomplishments  are  poor  tricks,  unless  their  polish  ia 
but  the  smoothness  of  substantial  knowledge  and  judg- 
ment. A  showy  girl,  who  can  dance,  sing,  and  prattle  two 
or  three  foreign  languages,  without  being  able  to  speak 
and  write  sensibly  in  her  own  tongue,  is  one  of  the  most 
lamentable  of  counterfeits,  and  may  chance  to  blight  the 
peace  and  dignity  of  more  hearts  than  one  by  her  shams. 
She  is  the  product  of  that  flashy  system  of  training,  which 
is  doing  more  mischief  in  America  than  any  where  else, 
and  making  society  a  tawdry  Vanity  Fair  instead  of  a 
companionship  of  hearts  and  homes."* 

It  is  painful  to  consider  the  low  ideal  which  some 
parents  set  before  their  daughters  as  the  grand  object  of 
their  mutual  aspiration.  To  be  trained  for  beautiful 
brides,  or  centres  of  meretricious  observation  at  summer 
watering-places,  or  to  be  admired  in  the  giddy  whirl  of 
the  dance,  for  graceful  attitudes  and  flashing  beauty 
—  what  an  object  of  life  is  this  !  Who  are  taught  to 
control  their  feelings  and  show  ofl"  their  accomplishments, 
and  by  artificial  conventionalities  become  as  heartless  as 
waxen  images  with  glass  eyes ;  in  whom  the  chaste  enamel 
of  nature  and  all  the  free  blushes  of  native  grace,  have 
been  polished  off"  with  the  brush  of  artificial  manners: 
"a  living  gewgaw,  a  doll  made  up  of  rouge,  and  musk, 
and  lace,  a  frame  to  hang  flounces  on"  —  to  go  out 
into  society  to  become  smitten  and  enamored  "by  some 
mere  popinjay  and  dandiprat  in  the  other  sex — a  kind  of 

*  Osgood. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  219 

whiskered  essence  or  organized  perfume"  — perchance  to 
marry,  and,  after  a  shortlived  excitement  of  vapid  pleasure, 
to  linger  out  a  life  of  married  imhecility  and  wretchedness. 

Oh !  it  is  sad  to  think  of  those  who  are  to  become  wives 
and  mothers  in  our  homes,  and  who  ought  to  be  the  mild 
conservators  of  pure  morals  and  good  manners  in  society, 
trained  only  to  live  in  the  whirl  of  excitement  or  sparkle 
in  the  ball-room,  as  mere  airy  bubbles,  with  their  evanescent 
hues  of  beauty  floating  in  the  eddying  circles  of  fashion 
and  vanity,  instead  of  polished  stones,  the  supporters  and 
adornments  of  domestic  and  social  life ! 

Let  it  be  the  aim  of  those  entrusted  with  female  educa- 
tion at  home,  or  in  our  seminaries  of  learning,  to  realize 
the  ideal  of  the  Psalmist,  that  our  daughters  may  be  as 
corner-stones,  polished  after  the  similitude  of  a  palace. 
That  they  may  possess  the  substantial  elements  of  educa- 
tion with  special  reference  to  their  peculiar  sphere  in  life. 
And  in  this  prospective  reference  we  include  good  house- 
keeping. This,  however  prosaic  and  homely  it  may  seem 
to  the  fancy  of  sentimental  young  ladies,  is  nevertheless 
an  important  requisite  in  her  education.  It  is  among  the 
fine  as  well  as  useful  arts,  and  rightly  viewed  its  very 
utilities,  like  the  fountain  of  living  water,  sparkle  into 
beauty.  But  they  are  not  to  be  corner-stones,  but 
polished  after  the  similitude  of  a  palace.  Let  every 
attention  be  paid  to  the  culture  of  pure  tastes,  a  refined 
imagination,  and  that  natural  grace  of  manner  which 
will  invest  her  true  womanhood  with  the  graces  of  refine 


220  BETHANY;     OR, 

ment  and  social  courtesy,  as  distinguishable  from  the  mere 
ceremonial  of  studied  manners,  and  the  cold  and  artificial 
graces  of  fashionable  life,  as  the  dewy  freshness  and 
sparkling  beauty  of  a  Spring  morning,  from  the  glittering 
frost-work  of  winter. 

2.  But  all  education  apart  from  religion  is  abortive,  as 
to  the  true  aim  and  end  of  life.  This  is  specially  true 
of  woman.  "  Favor  is  deceitful,  and  beauty  is  vain  ;  but 
the  woman  that  feareth  the  Lord,  she  shall  be  praised." 
"  This  is  the  brightest  jewel  in  her  crown." 

In  view  of  her  sphere  and  mission,  she  pre-eminently 
needs  the  guidance  and  strength,  the  life  and  power  of 
religion.  In  the  opening  bloom  of  life  should  she  be 
found  with  Christ,  and  devote  to  Him  the  grace  and  power 
of  her  youthful  enthusiasm.  How  can  she  be  a  polished 
corner-stone  in  the  domestic  temple,  unless  she  is  built 
upon  Him  who  is  the  chief  corner-stone  ? 

She  who  is  to  stand  as  the  central  light  and  moral 
power  of  home  —  from  whom  immortal  minds  are  to 
receive  their  first  and  most  durable  impressions  in  the 
plastic  mould  of  childhood  —  she  who  in  the  initial  school 
of  human  destiny  is  influentially  to  affect  all  social  con- 
ditions— she  of  all  others  most  needs  the  wisdom  that  is  from 
above,  and  the  grace  of  Christ  to  meet  her  responsibilities. 
She  is  to  take  her  place  in  society,  and  her  spirit  and 
moral  attitude  will,  to  a  great  extent,  determine  the  moral 
atmosphere  about  her.  If  she  does  not  frown  upon  and 
shrink  from  the  touch  of  the  libertine  —  if  she  allows  a 


THE     CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  221 

fashionable  exterior  to  excuse  drunkenness,  and  "  a  mus- 
tachioed lip  to  consecrate  profaneness,  she  is  to  blame  if 
vice  prevails  in  the  community ;  and  her  responsibility  in 
this  respect  is  deeper  than  she  may  be  aware."  But  if 
she  carries  into  society  the  chastened  dignity  and  moral 
purity  of  a  true  woman,  how  much  may  she  do  to  give 
tone  not  only  to  the  manners  but  morals  of  the  com- 
munity !  She  becomes  the  advocate  of  every  virtue,  and 
the  effectual  reformer  of  every  vice.  How  much,  there- 
fore, depends  upon  the  religious  education  of  woman ! 
Let  her  learn  early  to  sit  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  whose 
deepest  truth  and  inmost  life  were  revealed  to  the  sisters 
of  Bethany.  Then  will  she  be  prepared  to  fulfil  her  holy 
mission  in  society,  in  the  church,  and  in  the  world.  Then 
will  "  she  stand  in  her  household  the  priestess  of  an 
immortal  faith,  the  reconciler  of  human  law  with  the 
divine ;  then  will  she  move  among  sons  and  daughters, 
folding  the  hands  of  infancy  in  prayer,  joining  the  hands 
of  all  in  fellowship,  opening  them  in  charity,  and  pointing 
with  her  own  to  heaven." 

"  She  can  so  impress 
With  quietness  and  beauty,  and  so  feed 
With  lofty  thoughts,  that  neither  evil  tongues, 
Rash  judgments,  nor  the  sneers  of  selfish  men, 
Nor  greetings  where  no  kindness  is,  nor  all 
The  dreary  intercourse  of  daily  life, 
Shall  e'er  prevail  against  us,  or  disturb 
Our  cheerful  faith,  that  all  which  we  behold 
Is  full  of  blessings." 

We  conclude  this  subject  with  another  moral  picture 
19* 


222  BETHANY;   on, 

from  the  gospel,  presenting  a  condensed  illustration  of 
woman's  true  position  and  mission. 

TUE  MARYS  ROUND  THE  CROSS. 

"And  there  stood  by  the  cross  of  Jesus,  his  mother,  and  hia 
mother's  sister,  Mary,  the  -wife  of  Cleophas,  and  Mary  Magdalene." 

JonN. 

These  pious  females  are  round  that  cross,  like  serene 
and  beautiful  stars,  shining  in  that  darkest  midnight  of 
history.  The  scene  illustrates  what  is  most  lovely  in 
woman,  and  is  a  beautiful  symbol  of  her  true  position. 
It  is  the  light  of  the  cross  that  has  revealed  more  and 
more  the  true  dignity  of  her  office  and  the  excellency  of 
her  nature.  From  that  cross  she  derives  her  power,  and 
goes  forth  on  her  mission  and  ministry  of  love. 

The  naturalness  and  touching  simplicity  of  this  by- 
scene  in  the  Crucifixion  authenticates  the  whole  descrip- 
tion of  the  Evangelist,  as  one  caught  from  actual  and 
passing  life.  Woman  appears  here  in  those  traits  which 
will  always  constitute  her  distinctive  excellence  and  glory ; 
traits  which,  while  they  gladden  all  the  walks  of  life, 
unfold  with  peculiar  beauty  and  power  in  scenes  of  trial 
and  sorrow,  demonstrating  that  her  dominion  is  the  affec- 
tions, that  it  is  pre-eminently  her  office  to  reveal  the 
.'Secret  power  there  is  in  love.  The  loveliest  phases  of  her 
character  come  out  in  the  deepening  shadows  of  life. 
With  a  delicacy  and  sensitiveness,  which,  like  the  iEolian 
harp,  trembles  at  every  breath  of  air,  or  the  mimosa  leaf, 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  223 

which  shrinks  from  the  gentlest  touch,  she  yet  rises  ^vith 
heroic  devotion  and  fortitude  in  scenes  of  calamity  and 
desolation,  and  yields  the  sweetest  and  richest  music  in 
the  fierceness  of  the  storm.  This  is  seen  at  the  Cross. 
The  eyes  of  Jesus,  dim  with  death,  turn  from  those  faces 
of  scorn  and  hatred  to  the  looks  of  those  tearful  women, 
to  the  face  of  his  mother.  There  he  meets  with  a  devotion 
more  eloquent  than  words,  and  a  love  that  cannot  die. 
And  Mary,  the  mother — how  does  the  love  that  bent  over 
the  manger  brighten  even  through  the  darkness  that  hung 
round  the  Mount  of  Crucifixion.  And  there,  when  man 
was  false  and  cowardly,  did  woman  linger,  to  mingle  the 
tears  of  pity  with  the  blood  of  sufiering.  There  she  stood 
by  the  dying  Saviour ;  and  went  from  the  Cross  to  relume 
the  "  lamp  of  her  devotion  at  the  door  of  the  sepulchre." 

"Last  at  his  Cross,  and  earliest  at  his  grave." 

With  this  scene  before  me,  I  say  that  woman's  peculiar 
position  is  near  the  Cross  —  her  sphere  is  with  the  affec- 
tions, and  in  those  relations  which  pertain  to  the  affections. 
Her  most  potential  influence  is  in  the  sphere  of  home. 
Here  she  acts  in  the  relations  of  the  mother^  the  ivife,  the 
sister,  the  daughter.  To  her  belong  the  beautiful  ofiices 
of  love  and  mercy — in  hours  of  sickness,  in  homes  of  pain 
and  penury,  in  sleepless  vigils  beside  the  aged  and  the 
couch  of  the  dying.  And  here  she  may  shine  with  a 
royalty  as  supreme  and  glorious  as  any  man  in  the  halls 
of  debate,  or  on  the  dazzling  heights  of  ambition. 


22 1  lktiiany;    ok, 

Let  It  be  lier  liigliest  aim  to  occupy  well  this  sphere. 

"Here  woman  reigns;  the  mother,  daughter,  wife. 
Strews,  with  fresh  flowers,  the  narrow  way  of  life — 
Around  her  here,  domestic  duties  meet, 
And  fireside  pleasures  gaml)ol  at  her  feet.'* 

And  though  slic  cannot  now  literally  stand  by  the  Cross 
of  Jesus,  and  mingle  her  tears  with  the  suffering  Savior, 
she  can  go  forth  to  diffuse  His  spirit  in  all  her  social 
rehitions,  and  fulfil  her  mission  of  mercy  to  the  poor,  the 
sick,  and  sorrowful.  And  thus,  abiding  in  the  w^ork  of 
faith  and  labor  of  love,  she  shall  see  Jesus  glorified  —  she 
shall  be  blessed  with  the  smile  of  his  love  and  approval, 
even  as  the  Marys  of  old  by  the  Cross  were  blessed  by 
his  dying  gaze. 

III. 

HOME  CARES,  AND  HEAVENLY  PEACE. 

"Martha,  Martha,  thou   art   careful   and   troubled   about   many- 
things. " —  Jesus. 

"  And  she  had  a  sister  called  Mary,  who  also  sat  at  Jesus'  feet 
and  heard  his  word."  —  Luke. 

*'  But  Martha  was  cumbered  about  much  serving."  —  Luke. 

•'  Commit  thy  trifles  unto  God,  for  to  him  is  nothing  trivial." — 

TUPPER. 

In  ev'ry  home  there  will  be  care, 

And  trifles  to  annoy ; 
But  at  the  Savior's  feet  in  prayer, 

The  heart  finds  rest  and  joy. 

This  scene  in  the  home  of  Bethany — Martha  cumbered 
about  much  serving,  and  Mary  serene  and  happy  at  the 
feet   of  Jesus  —  illustrates   an   important  phase   in    our 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  225 

earthly  homes.  The  two  sisters  appear,  in  this  and  two 
succeeding  scenes,  in  their  distinct  moral  features  and 
marked  personality.  There  is  here  only  a  casual  lifting 
of  the  veil,  and  we  catch  but  a  passing  glimpse ;  yet  do 
Mary  and  Martha  stand  distinctly  defined  in  our  concep- 
tions. The  one,  serene  and  happy;  the  other,  anxious  and 
bustling.  The  one  living  in  the  excitement  of  action ;  the 
other  in  the  repose  of  thought.  The  one  doing;  the 
other  aspiring.  Martha  cumbered  about  much  serving ; 
Mary  devoutly  sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  without  a 
troubled  thought  or  anxious  care. 

The  quiet  home  of  Bethany  is  the  scene  of  unusual 
bustle  and  excitement  at  the  unexpected  coming  of  Christ 
and  some  of  his  disciples.  Upon  Martha,  it  seems,  the 
duties  of  hospitality  mainly  devolved.  She  is  anxious  to 
give  the  honored  guests  a  reception  and  an  entertainment 
worthy  of  their  distinction.  Naturally  excitable  and  im- 
pulsive, she  loses  the  serenity  of  her  mind,  and  is  betrayed 
into  a  fretful,  petulant  mood,  which  overlooks  the  kindness 
due  to  her  sister,  and  the  veneration  becoming  her  dis- 
tinguished guest.  With  a  temper  ruffled  and  flushed  with 
excitement,  she  abruptly  enters  the  room  where  Mary  sat 
at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  and  with  a  manner  and  language  that 
implicated  both  the  Master  and  Mary,  says,  *'  Lord,  dost 
thou  not  care  that  my  sister  hath  left  me  to  serve  alone  ? 
bid  her  therefore  that  she  help  me." 

To  which  her  Lord  responded  in  words  so  gentle  and 
touching,  yet  rebuking  her  over  anxiety,  and  commending 


2-(3  B  E  T  II  A  N  Y  ;     OR, 

the  devout  aspirations  of  her  sister  —  "Martha,  Martha, 
thou  art  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things : 

"  But  one  thing  is  needful ;  and  Mary  hath  chosen  that 
good  part,  which  shall  not  be  taken  away  from  her." 

MAnXIIA   AND    MARY. 

The  sacred  writers  never  attempt  a  portraiture  of  per- 
sons. Even  of  Christ  we  have  no  labored  description. 
Of  these  two  sisters  we  have  no  formal  portraits,  and  yet 
they  look  out  upon  us  from  this  and  two  other  scenes  in 
the  gospel  with  all  the  vividness  of  reality.  Their  moral 
features  are  familiar  to  us  ;  and  we  recognize  them  "  as 
separate  and  as  self-consistent  in  their  individuality,  as 
any  two  persons  that  we  see  about  us  every  day."  In 
this  scene,  Martha,  cumbered  with  cares,  losing  her  self- 
possession,  petulant,  censorious,  contrasts  unfavorably  with 
Mary,  calmly  sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus.  And  yet  both 
were  the  friends  of  Jesus  and  possessed  of  personal  ex- 
cellences ;  but  each  represented  a  peculiar  order  of  virtues. 
They  represent,  says  one,  two  distinct  types  of  character 
— of  womanly  character.  The  one  is  'practical,  the  other 
devout  and  reflective. 

Martha  has  been  styled  the  female  Peter  —  ardent,  im- 
pulsive, practical.  Her  love  to  Christ  is  exhibited  in  her 
bustling  activity  to  furnish  an  entertainment  for  her  Lord, 
who  was  wearied  with  toils,  and  needed  rest  and  refresh- 
ment. Her  faults  seemed  to  spring  from  her  virtues.  It 
was  her  intense  solicitude  for  the  entertainment  of  her 


T  II  K     CHRISTIAN     F  A  :\II  L  Y .  227 

Lord,  which  betrayed  her  into  that  excessive  anxiety  and 
petuLance  of  temper,  that  provoked  the  gentle  rebuke  of 
the  Master :  "  Martha,  Martha,  thou  art  careful  and 
troubled  about  many  things."  This  timely  rebuke  made 
her  conscious  of  the  wrong  tendency  of  her  inordinate 
anxiety,  inasmuch  as  her  excessive  solicitude  had  disturbed 
the  spiritual  equipoise  of  her  mind,  and  that  by  her  ab- 
sorption in  domestic  cares  she  was  really  losing  sight  of 
the  one  thing  needful.  She  appears  in  the  subsequent 
scenes  of  the  gospel  narrative,  with  the  same  peculiarities 
of  temperament  and  practical  character,  but  greatly  im- 
proved in  the  spirit  and  temper  of  her  mind. 

Mary  differs  from  Martha  in  natural  temperament,  as 
well  as  in  a  more  reflective  order  of  mind.  She  is  serene 
and  meditative,  with  deep  emotions  and  intense  self-con- 
sciousness. She  resembles  John  in  the  tenderness  and 
intensity  of  her  love  to  the  Savior.  Hence  her  attitude  at 
the  feet  of  Jesus  in  this  scene,  whilst  the  household  is  in 
commotion,  and  her  sister  is  fretted  with  care.  She  for- 
gets the  material  cares  of  the  household  in  the  aspirations 
of  her  soul  for  the  spiritual  and  divine.  She  sits  a 
charmed  listener  at  the  Master's  feet,  and  sees  nothing 
and  cares  for  nothing  beside  her  Lord,  and  the  teachings 
that  distilled,  like  the  dew,  from  his  lips.  In  her  ideal  of 
religion  and  spiritual  vision,  she  seems  to  live  in  a  sphere 
above  the  petty  cares  that  disturb  the  equanimity  of  her 
sister,  whose  very  enthusiasm  of  kindness  seems  tinged 
with  a  spirit  of  worldliness.     In  short,  *'Mary  was  one 


1228  ik.tiiany;    or, 

of  tliosc  characters  -who  cause  us  to  overlook  what  they  do 
in  the  consideration  of  what  they  are.  We  are  more  im- 
pressed by  her  spirit  than  by  her  actions.  She  sat  at  the 
feet  of  Jesus,  for  her  appropriate  sphere  was  in  the  region 
of  aspiration  and  receptivity.  Her  heart  was  a  censer  of 
devout  breathings,  and  her  whole  being  vibrated  to  holy 
influences  like  a  harp.  It  seems  to  be  the  mission  of  such 
natures,  not  so  much  to  act  as  to  shine  in  their  own  calm 
brightness,  like  planets,  reflecting  upon  us  a  light  which 
has  been  poured  into  them  from  unseen  urns.  .  .  .  While 
she  lives  her  presence  glides  among  us  and  makes  us 
better ;  and  when  she  dies  we  feel  almost  ready  to  say  that 
she  has  not  gone,  but  returned  to  heaven."* 

This  particular  aspect  of  the  home  in  Bethany,  and  the 
different  attitudes  of  the  sisters,  under  the  same  circum- 
stances, illustrate  the  different  phases  of  domestic  cares 
and  trials,  as  viewed  from  diff'erent  points  of  spiritual 
vision  — 

^'Martha  is  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things. 
Mary,  wuth  a  serene  and  peaceful  spirit,  sits  at  the  feet 
of  Jesus." 

This  phase  of  the  home-scene  at  Bethany  leads  us  to 
consider  the  cares  of  domestic  life,  and  the  difference 
between  earthly  perplexity  and  heavenly  peace,  as  repre- 
sented by  Martha  and  Mary. 

*  Chapin. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  229 


I.  — HOME   CARES. 

"  There  is  a  cross  in  every  sphere, 
And  an  earnest  need  of  prayer ; 
But  the  lowly  heart  that  trusts  in  Thee, 
Is  happy  everywhere." 

The  very  scene  before  us  suggests  what  is  matter  of 
universal  experience,  that  in  every  home  there  will  be 
cares  and  annoyances,  which  need  the  pacific  power  of 
religious  faith;  and  further,  that  there  is  something  in 
faith  and  devout  communion  with  Jesus,  which  will  diffuse 
a  heavenly  peace  through  the  soul  in  the  midst  of  the 
manifold  cares  and  trivial  disturbances  that  are  incident 
to  the  happiest  home-life. 

We  are  not  led  now  to  speak  of  those  cares  which 
throng  the  busy  thoroughfares  of  trade,  that  fever  the 
brain  of  the  merchant,  or  press  with  wasting  anxiety  on 
the  professional  man,  or  torture  the  slaves  of  Mammon 
and  ambition,  as  they  struggle  for  gold  and  power.  But 
the  picture  before  us  conducts  our  thoughts  to  the  quiet 
scenes  of  domestic  life,  to  those  anxious  cares  and  trials 
and  disquietudes  which  are  found  in  every  home,  and 
which  demand  the  endurance  of  faith,  and  patience  of  love. 
There  is  a  question  of  Job  which  is  full  of  significance 
in  its  general  reference  to  human  life,  but  has  a  special 
application  to  home-cares,  that  are  trivial,  but  of  constant 
recurrence.  He  asks,  "  What  is  man,  that  thou  shouldst 
magnify  him,  and  set  thine  heart  upon  him ;  and  that 
20 


2^0  r  E  T  II  A  N  Y  ;     OR, 

tluni  slioulJst  visit  him  every  inoriiin<^,  a)id  try  him  every 
moment?'' 

This  last  clause,  "  tried  every  moment,"  expresses  the 
idea  of  domestic  cares.  The  obvious  meaning  of  the 
passage  is  not  that  we  are  continually  afflicted,  but  that 
everything  in  the  course  of  life  and  of  every  day  touches 
our  moral  nature  in  the  character  of  a  spiritual  discipline, 
is  a  trial  of  our  temper  and  dispositions,  and  developes  in 
us  feelings  that  are  either  right  or  wrong.  The  very 
passing  of  time,  and  the  alternations  of  the  weather,  often 
indicate  by  the  feelings  awakened  the  tone  of  our  mora] 
feelings,  and  develop  in  us  much  that  is  moral.  "Yes, 
the  idle  watch-hand  often  points  to  something  within  us ; 
the  very  dial-shadow  falls  upon  the  conscience." 

Let  any  one  mark  his  interior  history  for  one  day,  and 
see  how  much  that  is  moral  is  developed  in  the  process 
of  the  commonest  routine  of  domestic  life.  How  much 
depends  upon  the  frame  of  mind  in  which  the  day  is 
begun.  If  there  is  no  devoutness  in  the  early  morn,  how 
possible  that  in  the  very  first  acts  —  in  the  process  of 
dressing  and  the  toilet  —  something  may  fret  the  spirit 
and  disturb  the  serenity  of  the  soul,  and  gather  a  cloud  in 
the  morning  that  may  overshadow  the  whole  day.  How 
possible  is  it  that  the  adjustment  of  some  article  in  the 
wardrobe  —  some  slight  neglect  in  the  culinary  prepara- 
tions for  the  early  meal  —  some  annoyance  from  the  ser- 
vants —  may  ruffle  the  spirit  in  the  early  hours,  disturb 
the   equanimity,    and    touch    the    springs   of  the   moral 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  231 

nature,  and  thus  give  the  spiritual  hue  and  moral  tone 
to  your  inner  feelings  and  outward  conduct  for  the  whole 
day.  Now  all  this  may  take  place  without  our  being  dis- 
tinctly sensible  at  the  time  that  anything  wrong  has 
happened.  The  inner  disturbance  may  be  so  slight  as 
not  to  be  matter  of  distinct  consciousness,  and  yet  it 
may  not  be  the  less  real  or  influential  in  affecting  the 
temper  of  our  minds  and  the  tenor  of  our  conduct.  "  We 
are  told  that  the  earth  and  every  substance  around  us 
is  full  of  the  electric  fluid;  but  we  do  not  constantly 
perceive  it.  A  little  friction,  however,  developes  it,  and 
it  sends  out  a  hasty  spark.  And  so  in  the  moral  world, 
a  slight  chafing,  a  single  turn  of  some  wheel  in  the  social 
machinery,  and  there  comes  a  flashing  glance  of  the  eye, 
a  hasty  word,  perhaps  a  muttered  oath,  that  sounds  omi- 
nous and  awful  as  the  tone  of  distant  thunder !  What  is 
it  that  the  little  machinery  of  the  electrical  operator 
develops  ?  It  is  the  same  power  that,  gathering  its  tre- 
mendous forces,  rolls  through  the  firmament,  and  rends 
the  mountains  in  its  might.  And  just  as  true  is  it  that 
the  little  round  of  our  daily  cares  and  occupations,  the 
humble  mechanism  of  daily  life,  bears  witness  to  that 
moral  power  which,  only  extended,  exalted,  enthroned 
above,  is  the  dread  and  awful  Majesty  of  the  heavens."* 

In  the  case  of  Martha,  it  was  not  some  great  trial, 
some  sudden  shock  of  calamity,  or  insolent  provocation, 

*  Dewey's  Human  Life. 


232  BETHANY;   on, 

that  disturbed  the  harmony  of  her  soul,  perplexed  her 
with  care,  and  gave  her  tliat  censorious  and  petulant 
spirit;  but  the  common  duties  of  domestic  life  —  a  duty 
of  every  day  occurrence  —  the  preparation  of  a  meal.  It 
proves  what  we  have  just  been  saying,  that  these  little, 
daily  household  duties  are  moral  in  their  effects  upon  us  — 
a  moral  discipline  —  and  need  the  guiding  and  controlling 
influence  of  religious  faith.  And  they  need  it  the  more 
for  the  very  reason  that  they  are  little  cares,  and  of  con- 
stant recurrence.  In  great  trials  the  spirit  is  roused  to 
resistance  and  effort,  and  looks  to  God  for  help ;  whereas, 
in  these  trivial,  ever-recurring  cares  the  spirit  is  often 
relaxed  and  unguarded,  and  forgets  to  pray.  These  cares 
and  toils  of  the  household,  under  divine  grace,  nurture  in 
us  patience  and  strength,  and  even  magnanimity ;  so  that 
the  very  furniture  of  the  parlor  and  implements  of  domestic 
labor  become  a  part  of  the  ordained  instrumentality  for 
our  progress  in  moral  perfection. 

How  many  and  diversified  are  the  cares  and  troubles  of 
domestic  life ! 

1.  Take  the  young  wife,  whose  life  in  the  paternal  home 
has  been  one  of  comparative  ease  and  exemption  from 
care.  She  finds  in  her  new  position  manifold  duties  and 
obligations  for  which  she  is  but  illy  prepared.  Amid  the 
pressure  of  other  and  increasing  cares,  are  added  those 
of  the  mother  for  her  first-born.  Soon  it  starts  up  in  her 
quiet  path  a  being  of  will  and  passion.  It  is  to  be 
governed  and  taught  submission  to  authority.     Often  she 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  233 

is  perplexed  as  to  the  course  of  duty.  Sometimes  there 
is  painful  conflict  between  the  promptings  of  maternal 
affection,  and  the  stern  behests  of  duty.  She  is  tried  in 
her  motherly  sympathies,  in  her  patience,  and  an  un- 
faltering adherence  to  the  convictions  of  duty,  and  nothing 
but  the  strength  inspired  by  faith  and  prayer,  can  enable 
her  to  meet  this  moral  crisis,  and  conduct  it  to  happy 
issues.  The  maternal  relation,  with  its  responsibilities, 
has  been  considered  in  another  chapter,  and  we  simply 
allude  to  it  here  as  one  of  the  deepest  sources  of  care  and 
anxiety  in  domestic  life. 

But,  if  in  addition  to  this  care  —  that  is  in  most  cases 
inseparable  from  the  family  life  —  there  should  be  any 
infelicity  in  the  conjugal  relation ;  if  she  is  an  unhappy 
wife,  left  to  the  loneliness  of  thought  and  the  silence  of 
neglect;  if  she  wakes  from  the  dreams  of  youthful 
love,  and  finds  herself  bound  to  a  coarse  and  selfish 
husband,  her  affections  repulsed,  the  bright  visions  of 
youth  clouded,  and  her  sad  heart  doomed  to  see  one 
by  one  the  ruin  of  her  hopes,  ''the  loss  of  all  life's  golden 
links ;"  and  if,  as  is  sometimes  the  case,  she  is  left  to 
shame  and  desertion  —  left  unbefriended  and  alone  tp 
bear  up  under  the  accumulated  cares  and  heart-throes 
that  shatter  her  feeble  frame ;  oh !  for  such  trials  there 
is  no  refuge  but  in  God !  The  heroes  of  history  wear 
wreaths  of  fame  about  their  bleeding  brows ;  but  who  shall 
unfold  the  record  of  woman's  martyrdom,  traced  in  tears, 
hidden  in  silence  in  many  a  desolate  home  ?    And  how  shall 


284  BETHANY;   or, 

she  meet  these  wasting  cares  ?  With  the  perplexed,  un- 
balanced mind  of  Martha,  or  the  upward-looking,  serene 
spirit  of  Mary? 

Where  can  she  find  repose  for  her  troubled  spirit,  or 
consolation  for  her  saddened  heart,  if  not  with  Mary  at 
the  feet  of  Jesus  —  in  lowly  communion  with  Him,  who 
came  to  comfort  all  that  mourn  —  to  bind  up  the  broken- 
hearted—  and  give  the  oil  of  joy  for  heaviness  —  and  the 
garments  of  praise  for  the  spirit  of  heaviness. 

2.  But  apart  from  these  extreme  and  melancholy 
instances  of  domestic  trials — in  every  home  —  however 
well  -  conditioned  in  affectional  harmony  and  external 
comforts,  there  will  be  cares  and  petty  annoyances,  trials 
of  temper  and  patience. 

Tapper  says.  "  A  well-assorted  marriage  hath  not  many 
cares."  It  is  true,  that  such  a  union  will,  by  mutual  for- 
bearance and  consideration,  prevent  "many  cares,"  but 
some  will  be  inevitable,  and  though  few,  if  not  met  and 
overcome  by  the  spirit  of  faith  and  love,  they  may  be 
enough  to  disturb  the  peace  and  harmony  of  home. 

The  sphere  of  woman  is  one  of  comparative  isolation 
from  the  world.  She  dwells  apart  from  the  tumult  and 
whirl  of  excitement  which  agitate  the  outer  world.  Her 
position  and  duties  leave  her  much  alone.  Her  life  is  one 
of  introversion  and  self-companionship ;  she  is  therefore 
peculiarly  sensitive  to  every  change  or  care  in  the  house- 
hold, and  needs  an  inner  spring  of  life  and  self-reliance. 

The  home  of  Bethany  was  one  of  sisterly  and  brotherly 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  235 

affection  —  and  yet  the  unexpected  arrival  of  guests  de- 
manding extra  duties  and  culinary  preparations,  disturbed 
the  equanimity  of  Martha,  oppressed  her  with  cares,  that 
ruffled  her  feelings  and  led  her  into  sins  of  temper  and 
language,  that  received  the  rebuke  of  the  Savior. 

This  scene  illustrates  the  remark  just  made ;  even  in 
well-regulated  homes  —  homes  of  affection  and  religion — 
there  will  be  occasions  for  the  trial  of  temper  and  disposi- 
tions. There  may  be  something  in  the  opening  day 
which  will  call  for  an  act  of  self-command ;  the  servants 
may  be  obstinate  or  perverse ;  some  special  direction  has 
been  forgotten ;  or  they  have  done  the  very  opposite  of 
what  you  ordered;  or  some  one  of  the  household  has  upset 
or  misplaced  an  article  of  furniture.  The  thing  itself  may 
be  very  trivial — but  it  has  ruffled  your  feelings ;  and  then 
the  material  consideration  is  that  you  lose  your  self-pos- 
session, and  your  temper  is  not  what  it  should  be.  You 
are  vexed  or  fretted,  the  fine  tone  of  the  spirit  is  dis- 
turbed, and,  if  of  an  impulsive  temperament,  that  little  jar 
may  derange  the  whole  domestic  harmony — that  spark  of 
kindled  passion  may  inflame  the  entire  household ;  for  it  is 
a  matter  of  fact  that  family  discords  usually  originate  in 
little  things. 

But  we  cannot  particularize  the  manifold  incidents,  sur- 
prisals,  disappointments,  the  complicated  and  interdepen- 
'dent  workings  of  the  household,  the  diversified  calls  of 
duty,  the  daily  contact  of  different  temperaments  and  in- 
dependent wills,  by  which  the  delicate  adjustments  of  home 


230  B  i:  T  II  A  N  Y ;    or, 

may  lose  tlieir  harmony.  IIow  unexpected  trials  of 
temper,  and  conflict  of  "vvill,  may  develop  the  hitherto 
latent  passions  of  envy  or  jealousy,  elicit  the  flashing  eye 
and  the  angry  word,  which,  by  a  law  of  moral  repulsion, 
rebounds  with  the  quick  retort  and  the  bitter  sarcasm. 
And  well  if  these  harsh  sounds  do  not  invade  the  sanc- 
tuary of  home.  Well  if  they  do  not  break  the  harmony  of 
the  social  circle,  and  mar  the  music  of  loving  hearts. 

We  now  turn  from  Martha  to  Mary  —  from  domestic 
cares  and  perplexity  to 

IL— HEAVENLY    REST. 

"  What  nothing  earthly  gives  or  can  destroy, 
The  souFs  calm  sunshine,  and  the  heart-felt  joy." 

The  outward  attitudes  of  the  two  sisters  in  this  moral 
picture,  indicate  their  apparent  spiritual  stand-points  in 
relation  to  household  cares. 

The  one  is  troubled,  petulant,  censorious — the  other  is 
calm,  self-possessed,  with  devout  aspirations,  sitting  at  the 
feet  of  Jesus.  The  scene  thus  becomes  a  pictorial  repre- 
sentation of  domestic  cares  and  heavenly  rest.  They  are 
both  encompassed  by  the  same  circumstances,  yet  how 
difi*erently  are  they  afiected.  Martha  is  troubled  about 
many  things,  fretted,  petulant,  losing  her  self-control,  and 
betrayed  into  language  and  conduct  as  unsisterly  as  it 
was  worldly  and  unchristian.  Mary  is  serene  and  happy 
— her  faith  in  Christ  gives  a  central  rest  to  her  soul. 

Let  no  one,  as  they  look  at  this  picture,  at  the  hea« 


THE    CIimSTIAN    FAMILY.  237 

venly  calm  of  Mary  amidst  the  bustle  and  excitement  of 
domestic  cares  —  imagine  that  her  piety  was  too  ideal, 
too  spiritual  ever  to  be  realized  amid  the  material  activities 
of  common  life.  Nor  are  we  to  infer  from  her  quiet  pos- 
ture at  the  Savior's  feet,  while  Martha  is  busy  and  bur- 
dened with  household  duties,  that  she  was  indifferent  to 
the  common  affairs  of  home,  and  neglected  the  practical 
obligations  of  life.  This  would  be  as  false  to  the  true 
ideal  of  female  piety  as  unjust  to  the  real  character  of 
Mary.  The  true  interpretation  of  this  scene  leads  us  to 
infer  that  there  was  an  elementary  difference  in  these 
two  sisters,  indicated  by  the  activity  of  the  one,  and 
the  spiritual  repose  of  the  other.  The  piety  of  Martha, 
even  if  as  great  as  that  of  Mary,  would  still  manifest 
itself  in  active  service.  You  perceive  this  radical  differ- 
ence in  the  last  gospel-scene  in  which  they  are  brought 
before  us.  About  a  week  before  the  crucifixion  we  find 
Jesus  and  Lazarus  and  the  two  sisters  at  a  social  meal  in 
the  house  of  Simon  the  Leper.  Both  of  the  sisters  were 
filled  with  thankfulness,  and  both  expressed  their  grati- 
tude ;  but  how  different  the  method  of  its  manifestation  — 
the  one  in  the  bustling  service  of  a  feast,  the  other  in  the 
silent  fragrance  of  the  ointment.  You  see  in  the  one  a 
matter-of-fact  nature,  full  of  energy  and  activity ;  and  in 
the  other  an  ideal,  contemplative  nature,  a  devout, 
aspiring  soul,  seeking  some  rich  symbol  to  express  her 
deep  and  yearning  affection,  and  leaving  that  precious 
ointment,   poured  upon   the  feet   of  Jesus   as   an   ever- 


208  BETHANY:   or, 

lasting  memorial  of  licr  piety — filling  not  only  Simon's 
house  -with  its  odor,  but  tlie  whole  world  with  the  sweeter 
fragrance  of  her  heavenly  devotion ;  for,  said  Christ, 
"Wheresoever  this  gospel  shall  be  preached,  throughout 
the  whole  world,  this  also  that  she  hath  done  shall  be 
spoken  of,  for  a  memorial  of  her." 

With  this  radical  difference  of  temperament  in  the  two 
sisters,  even  the  grace  of  God  would  not  make  them  alike, 
any  more  than  that  grace  would  transform  a  Peter  into  a 
John,  or  a  Luther  into  a  Melanchthon.  "  There  are 
diversities  of  gifts,  but  the  same  spirit."  Kecognizing 
this  elementary  difference  in  Martha  and  Mary,  we 
expect  to  find  them  in  the  very  attitudes  in  which  they 
appear  in  the  several  scenes  in  the  gospel  —  Martha 
always  active  and  serving,  Mary  always  meditative,  sitting 
at  the  feet  of  Jesus.  And  if  both  were  equally  possessed 
of  the  spirit  of  Christ,  these  different  attitudes  would 
have  been  equally  acceptable  to  the  Lord.  Martha  was 
not  rebuked  for  her  attention  to  household  affairs,  but 
because  in  her  over  anxiety  she  lost  the  equanimity  of  her 
mind,  and  by  too  much  absorption  in  family  cares  she 
was  actually  losing  sight  of  the  one  thing  that  is  needful. 

Mary  was  not  commended  for  her  seeming  neglect  of 
domestic  duties,  but  because  she  recognized  higher  obli- 
gations,  and  kept  these  family  affairs  in  their  true  and 
subordinate  position,  and  performed  them  in  their  appro- 
priate season,  with  a  sanctified  will  and  in  the  clear  vision 
of  faith.     In  this  instance  she  did  not  so  much  neglect 


THE     CHRISTIAN     FAMILY.  *i39 

her  domestic  duties,  as  suspend  their  pressure  to  jiekl  to 
nohler  impulses  and  the  call  of  higher  obligations.  The 
privilege  of  sitting  at  the  Master's  feet  was  too  precious 
to  be  lost  for  material  cares ;  she  could  well  dispense  with 
these  inferior  claims  whilst  listening  to  Him  who  could 
solve  the  great  problems  of  life,  and  satisfy  the  aspirations 
of  her  soul  after  truth  and  righteousness.  That  she  was 
right  in  this  course  was  evidenced  by  the  commendation 
of  her  Lord  —  "  Mary  hath  chosen  that  good  part." 

This  scene  shows  that  the  anxious  care  and  perplexity 
of  Martha,  and  the  heavenly  calm  of  Mary,  are  attribut- 
able to  their  relative  spiritual  proximity  to  the  Savior. 

If,  like  Martha,  we  are  so  busied  with  social  duties,  or 
out-door  business,  that  we  take  no  time  to  commune  with 
Christ  in  prayer,  where  we  may  get  the  true  perspective  of 
duty,  and  the  true  inspiration  of  life,  then,  like  her,  we 
shall  be  cumbered  with  much  serving.  Then  we  shall  be 
careful  and  troubled  about  many  things.  Away  from 
Christ  we  shall  lose  the  spiritual  equanimity  of  our  souls, 
and  fall  into  diverse  temptations  that  will  entangle  us  in 
doubt  and  perplexity,  if  they  do  not  excite  unholy  tempers, 
and  petulance,  and  fretful  irritation,  so  inimical  to  all 
spiritual  repose  and  heavenly  peace. 

But  if,  like  Mary,  we  abide  with  Christ,  we  shall 
possess  her  composurb  and  peace  amidst  the  turbulence  of 
outward  cares.  If,  like  Mary,  you  sit  at  the  feet  of  Jesus 
in  the  opening  morn,  and  listen  to  the  words  which,  of  old, 
fell  from  his  lips,  and  imbibe  his  spirit,  you  will  feel  a 


240  BETHANY;     OR, 

(llvino  life  ^YItllln  you  sanctifying  the  heart,  controlling 
tlie  conduct,  quickening  the  spirit,  clothing  your  deport- 
ment "with  a  divine  beauty,  and  the  evening  "will  close 
around  you  "with  a  heavenly  benediction.  If  you  keep 
near  the  Savior,  not  in  the  bodily  attitude  of  Mary,  but  ■ 
spiritually  "within  the  inspiration  of  his  presence,  you  will 
realize  the  fulfilment  of  his  promise  to  the  disciples. 
*'  These  things  have  I  spoken  unto  you,  that  in  me  ye 
might  have  peace.  In  the  "world  ye  shall  have  tribula- 
tion ;  but  be  of  good  cheer :  I  have  overcome  the  "world." 
Yes,  in  Christ  by  faith  you  "will  have  a  central  repose,  a 
divine  life ;  you  "will  dwell  in  the  world,  awake  to  the  call 
of  every  domestic  and  social  duty,  responding  to  every 
sympathy,  and  yet  dwell  all  the  while  in  heaven,  as  Jesus 
reposed  in  the  home  at  Bethany,  while  he  dwelt  also  in 
the  bosom  of  God.  Then,  while  all  without  may  storm, 
there  will  be  peace  within,  though  many  and  pressing 
claims  throng  your  quiet  path,  you  will  be  able  to  meet 
them  in  the  strength  of  faith  and  patience  of  love.  And 
the  inevitable  cares  and  perplexities  of  domestic  life  that 
agitate  the  Marthas,  will  pass  over  your  serene  spirit  like 
summer  storms,  that  ruffle  the  surface  of  the  sea,  but  do 
not  reach  the  calm  repose  of  the  waters  beneath.  And 
you  can  say  from  your  own  happy  experience  — 

*'  These  surface  troubles  come  ond  go 
Like  rufflings  of  the  sea; 
The  deeper  depth  is  out  of  reach 
To  all,  my  God,  but  Thee." 


THE     CHRISTIAN     FAMILY.  241 

Let  your  mind  be  as  prompt  to  meet  every  liouseliold 
duty  as  Martha,  and  your  heart  as  ready  and  generous 
to  welcome  and  entertain  your  Christian  friends,  and  even 
strangers;  "but  let  faith,  like  Mary,  abide  in  the  inner- 
most shrine  of  the  heart,  calmly  sitting  at  Jesus'  feet." 

To  how  many  in  every  department  of  life,  might  the 
Savior's  rebuke  of  Martha  be  addressed  !  How  many  are 
so  absorbed  with  the  claims  of  business,  the  cares  of  the 
household,  or  the  mere  frivolities  of  the  world,  as  to  over- 
look the  momentous  interests  and  destiny  of  the  soul! 
Who,  in  their  phrensied  pursuit  of  mere  shadows, 

"Push  eternity  from  human  thought, 
And  smother  souls  immortal  in  the  dust !" 

In  the  whirl  of  these  busy  cares  and  troubled  thoughts, 
that  leave  no  time  to  sit  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  pause  for  a 
moment,  and  ask  yourselves,  what  will  be  the  result  of 
these  restless  days  and  nights,  and  of  this  unceasing  occu- 
pation, which  exclude  all  care  of  the  soul !  What  will 
remain  of  them  all  in  a  dying  hour,  and  in  the  unseen 
world  ?  "  Whose  shall  these  things  be  which  thou  hast 
provided  ?"  "  What  shall  it  profit  a  man  if  he  shall  gain 
the  whole  world,  and  lose  his  own  soul?"  Oh  !  ponder  this 
solemn  question.  Mr.  Jay,  in  one  of  his  sermons,  gives 
the  following  illustration  of  the  folly  and  madness  of 
those  who,  in  their  anxiety  for  the  world,  lose  their  souls. 
"  I  have  somewhere  read  of  a  fire,  that  happened  in 
21 


242  y-  K  r  ii  a  n  y  ;    o  t^  , 

some  portion  of  our  country  ;  and  an  individual  avIio  liad 
been  extremely  busy  in  rescuing  the  furniture  from  the 
house,  remembering  in  an  instant  tliat  she  had  left  her 
child  in  the  cradle,  ran  back  again  in  order  to  secure  the 
infant,  but  found  that  the  flames  had  already  encircled  it, 
and  that  she  could  not  approach  it ;  and  she  came  out 
again  to  the  multitude,  wringing  her  hands,  and  exclaim- 
ing, "I  have  saved  my  goods,  but  I  have  lost  my  child !" 
Oh !  if  it  should  be  the  case  with  you,  that  at  the  great 
day  you  should  say  —  '  I  have  saved  my  property,  but  I 
have  lost  my  soul ;  I  have  saved  my  honor  and  my  repu- 
tation, but  I  have  lost  my  soul !'  Great  God !  what  a 
loss  that  would  be  to  any  one  of  you !" 

The  mother,  who  would  save  the  cradle,  and  leave  the 
sleeping  infant  to  perish  in  the  flames,  is  but  a  faint  type 
of  the  madness  which  leads  a  man  to  provide  for  the  body 
and  time,  but  neglects  the  soul  and  eternity.  For  the 
body  is  but  the  material  wrappage  of  the  soul ;  the  longest 
time  to  man  on  earth,  compared  with  eternity,  is  like 
a  drop  of  water  on  the  finger's  end  to  the  measureless  sea ; 
and  the  world  itself  is  but  the  cradle  in  which  the  infant 
soul,  in  swaddling-bands,  is  rocked  for  immortality.  And, 
Oh  !  the  moral  madness,  the  frantic  desperation,  to  wake  up 
in  the  future,  with  the  in-flashing  consciousness,  that  in 
your  care  for  the  body  and  the  world  you  have  lost  your 
soul,  and  filled  your  eternity  with  fire  ! 

Oh  !  listen  to  those  words  of  Jesus,  to  Martha,  and  to 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  243 

you.  ^'  Thou  art  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things ; 
but  one  thing  is  needful." 

It  is  to  seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteous- 
ness. It  is  to  secure  by  faith,  in  Jesus,  the  forgiveness 
of  sin,  and  thus  a  title  to  heaven ;  and  by  personal  holi- 
ness, through  sanctification  of  the  spirit,  to  be  made  meet 
for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light.  It  is  like  Mary, 
to  choose  that  good  part  which  shall  not  be  taken  away 
from  you. 

Let  this  be  the  first  great  and  absorbing  concern  of  life. 
Let  it  be  to  you  the  one  thing  needful ;  and  let  everything 
else  be  made  subservient  to  religion  and  the  soul.  Let 
all  other  cares  and  toils  be  comparatively  lost  in  the  one 
great  thought  and  care,  how  you  may  save  your  soul  and 
glorify  God  — 

"How  make  your  own  election  sure; 
And  when  you  fail  on  earth,  secure 
A  mansion  in  the  skies." 

Mary  is  still  in  the  presence  of  the  Savior.  Eighteen 
hundred  years  have  rolled  away  since  she  went  up  from 
the  home  of  Bethany  to  her  Father's  house  in  heaven ! 
And  still  she  worships  and  sings  before  the  Lamb,  in  the 
midst  of  the  throne ;  for  she  chose  that  good  part  which 
shall  never  be  taken  from  her.  And  Martha  has  long  ex- 
changed her  cares  and  toils  on  earth  for  the  sweet  repose 
of  heaven ;  "  but  her  active  mind,  and  heart,  and  hands, 

*  Find  sweet  employ 
In  that  eternal  world  of  joy.'" 


244  BETHANY;   or, 

IV.  — DOMESTIC  AFFLICTIONS. 

"0  deem  not  they  arc  blest  alone, 

Whose  lives  a  peaceful  tenor  keep ; 

The  Power  who  pities  man  has  shown 

A  blessing  for  the  eyes  that  weep." 

"Lord,  behold  he  whom  thou  lovest  is  sick Then  said 

Jesus  unto  them  plainly,  Lazarus  is  dead." 

We  have  gone  in  our  meditations  to  the  home  of 
Eethanj,  when  reposing  in  unclouded  sunshine,  serene 
and  happy  in  affectional  union,  and  hlessed  with  the 
presence  of  Jesus.  But  how  changed  is  now  the  scene ! 
The  light  that  sunned  their  peaceful  home  is  obscured 
by  sorrow.  The  hearts  so  light  and  joyous,  singing 
hymns  and  spiritual  songs,  until  the  old  homestead  was 
resonant  with  the  praises  of  God,  are  now  sad  and  silent 
in  the  bitterness  of  grief.  But  yesterday  all  was  bustle 
and  excitement  in  the  entertainment  of  unexpected  but 
welcome  guests ;  now  all  is  hushed  in  the  quiet  vigils 
of  the  sick-room,  succeeded  by  the  profounder  silence 
of  the  grave.  Alas !  it  is  but  the  picture  of  human 
life,  in  its  quick  alternations  of  joy  and  sorrow,  of  life 
and  death !  For  in  every  age  and  country  our  sor- 
rowing humanity  has  echoed  the  plaintive  sentiment  of 
the  old  man  on  the  banks  of  Ayr  — 

*'  I've  seen  yon  weary  winter  sun 
Twice  forty  times  return  ; 
And  every  time  has  added  proofs 
That  man  was  made  to  mourn.'" 


THE     CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  245 

This  home-scene,  in  its  visitations  of  sickness  and  sor- 
row, and  the  bow  of  peace  which  spanned  the  heavens  as 
the  clouds  were  passing  away,  is  a  touching  illustration 
of  home-life  in  its  afflictive  vicissitudes,  and  the  con- 
solation and  joy  which  Christ  gives  to  the  stricken  but 
believing  heart.  "  Let  not  your  hearts  be  troubled ;  ye 
believe  in  God,  believe  also  in  me."  The  subject  is 
systemized  naturally  in  the  historical  order  :  Sickness  — 
Death^  and  the  Consolation. 


I. — Sichness  in  the  Home  of  Bethany. 

"  Now  a  certain  man  was  sick,  named  Lazarus,  of  Bethany.'* 

John. 
"  A  life  all  ease  is  all  abused  ;  — 

0  precious  grace !  that  made  thee  wise 
To  know  —  afHiction  rightly  used 
Is  mercy  in  disguise/' 

As  we  look  abroad  upon  this  world,  replenished  with 
the  divine  bounty,  and  full  of  beauty  and  gladness,  we 
meet  everywhere  with  the  sad  traces  of  sin  and  death. 
It  does,  indeed,  seem  strange  to  our  earlier  contemplation 
of  life,  that  in  a  world  of  so  many  happy  homes  and  holy 
altars,  of  sacred  friendships  and  communions  and  devout 
aspirations,  there  should  be  the  blighting  touch  of  sorrow; 
that  in  such  a  world,  and  beneath  the  bright  skies,  there 
should  be  the  dark  stroke  of  calamity  —  a  serpent  winding 
through  the  Eden  of  our  existence. 

Stranger  still  does  it  seem  that  over  this  home  of 
21* 


246  BETHANY;     OR, 

Bethany  there  should  pass  such  deep  shadows  of  sadness 
and  gloom.  Surely  that  home,  so  beautiful  in  affection, 
where  Jesus  loved  to  linger  after  the  toils  of  the  day,  and 
in  whose  genial  sympathy  and  kindly  ministrations  his 
weary  and  saddened  heart  was  refreshed  and  cherished  — 
surely  this  spot,  if  any  on  earth,  shall  be  kept  from  the 
blight  of  sin  and  sorrow  !  But  no  ;  we  see  sickness  there, 
and  those  hearts  so  warm  and  sensitive,  so  full  of  gushing 
tenderness,  are  sad  with  watchings  and  anxious  fears  ;  and 
death  enters  there  and  rends  those  clasping  ties  of  affection, 
and  leaves  that  once  happy  home  shrouded  in  the  gloom 
and  silence  of  the  grave. 

What  we  see  in  this  family  is  but  a  type  of  all  other 
homes  in  their  exposure  to  the  evils  consequent  upon  sin. 
Whatever  may  be  the  philosophical  speculations  about  sin, 
or  the  often  fanciful  theories  explanatory  of  our  connection 
with  the  primeval  transgression  which  "  brought  death  into 
the  world  with  all  our  woe,"  the  fact  of  our  implication,  in 
some  way,  in  that  sin  and  its  consequents  no  man  in  his 
senses  can  question.  The  fact  is  asserted  by  divine  reve- 
lation and  confirmed  by  the  experience  of  mankind  in  all 
ages  and  countries.  "  Wherefore,"  says  Paul,  "as  by  one 
man  sin  entered  into  the  world,  and  death  by  sin ;  and  so 
death  passed  upon  all  men,  for  that  all  have  sinned."  How 
sad  are  the  memorials  of  this  fact  everywhere !  0  if  the 
veil  could  be  lifted  from  every  place  of  our  sufFerii>.g 
humanity,  and  the  countless  homes  of  physical  suffering, 
and  mental  anguish,  with  the  moan  of  breaking  hearts, 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  247 

could  send  up  their  sighs  and  groans  into  the  great  hear- 
ing of  the  world,  the  world  would  stand  aghast  at  the 
dread  revelation  —  a  revelation  at  which  "  man's  historian, 
though  divine,  might  weep  !" 

The  scene  before  us  is  a  simple  and  touching  picture 
of  domestic  afflictions  —  a  picture,  not  sketched  by  the 
fancy,  but  drawn  from  real  life.  It  serves  to  illustrate 
an  important  phase  of  the  family  life  —  one  of  personal 
and  touching  interest  to  every  home-circle. 

It  suggests,  first  of  all,  that  no  family,  however  happy 
in  mutual  devotion,  or  blessed  with  the  conscious  love  and 
favor  of  God,  can  expect  any  special  exemption  from  the 
afflictions  that  are  common  to  our  humanity.  But  it  at 
the  same  time  indicates  the  cheering  fact  that  sickness 
and  sorrow  come  to  the  Christian  home  winged  with 
mercy,  and  in  the  aiFecting  details  of  the  story  we  have 
a  beautiful  illustration  of  the  design  and  issue  of  our 
suffering  and  discipline  here  —  ^Hhe  trying  of  our  faith," 
that  "whom  the  Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth,"  and  that 
though  "  weeping  may  endure  for  the  night,  joy  cometh 
in  the  morning." 

"  Heaven  but  tries  our  virtues  by  affliction, 
And  oft  the  cloud  v^hich  wraps  the  present  hour 
Serves  but  to  brighten  all  our  future  days." 

We  are  led  to  consider  this  domestic  scene,  in  its 
afflictions  and  consolation,  in  their  consecutive  order, 
according  to  the  facts  of  the  history. 


248  BETHANY;     OR, 

1.  ^'■Lazarus  was  sick.''  What  fears  and  tremLlIng 
solicitude  hover  around  the  couch  of  sickness,  when  the 
sick  one  is  a  beloved  member  of  the  household,  and  the 
sickness  assumes  a  fatal  type  and  tendency.  Both  of 
these  elements  of  solicitude  existed  in  this  case.  It  was 
Lazarus  who  was  sick,  an  only  brother,  the  central  stay 
of  the  family,  the  only  earthly  object  of  his  sisters* 
affection,  and  whom,  in  the  absence  of  all  other  ties  of 
kindred,  they  clasped  to  their  hearts  with  an  intensity  of 
affection. almost  idolatrous;  and  it  was  a  dangerous  sick- 
ness, alike  fatal  and  speedy  in  its  termination.  Under  these 
circumstances,  we  can  imagine  the  anxious  fears  and 
sleepless  vigils  of  the  sisters  beside  the  couch  of  their 
only  brother.  How  would  Martha,  with  characteristic 
activity,  provide  every  delicacy  that  might  tempt  his 
morbid  appetite,  and  by  manifold  attentions  of  kindness 
seek  to  alleviate  his  suff"erings  and  smooth  his  fevered 
pillow !  And  how  would  Mary  sit  by  his  side  like  a 
ministering  angel,  and  by  her  devout  spirit  and  gospel 
words  seek  to  turn  the  current  of  his  thoughts  to  Christ 
and  heavenward,  and  thus  minister  a  spiritual  balm  to 
his  soul,  diffusing  a  heavenly  peace  through  his  heart ! 
Happy  the  sickness  that  is  blessed  with  such  ministrations 
of  sisterly  love  and  sympathy  ! 

But  Lazarus  grew  worse.  Watching  every  change  m 
the  disease,  they  discover  with  the  intuitive  quickness  of 
affection,  what  seemed  symptomatic  of  a  fatal  tendency,  anA 
awakened  the  most  painful  apprehensions.    How  natural  for 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  249 

these  lonely  sisters,  in  such  an  emergency,  to  turn  their 
fearful  and  troubled  hearts  to  the  Savior.  They  knew  his 
power  to  heal  the  sick,  and  how  readily  he  responded  to 
the  call  of  pity,  even  from  strangers.  They  knew  that 
he  cherished  for  their  little  household  a  peculiar  friend- 
ship, and  if  apprized  of  their  affliction,  they  felt  assured 
that  he  would  hasten  to  their  help  and  relieve  their 
painful  apprehensions.  With  these  thoughts  and  convic- 
tions they  sent  unto  Jesus,  saying,  "  Lord,  he  whom  thou 
lovest  is  sick."  The  form  of  this  message,  so  spiritual 
and  touching,  we  have  no  doubt  was  conceived  by  Mary. 
She  does  not  plead — as  one  less  spiritual  would  have  done 
—  that  Lazarus  loved  Him,  and  was  so  devoted  to  his 
cause,  and  therefore  He  should  come  and  heal  him.  No, 
she  pleads  His  love  for  Lazarus  as  the  reason  why  he 
should  come.  She  knew  that  human  love  was  too  imperfect, 
too  flickering  and  transient,  to  be  made  the  basis  of  any 
petition  to  God.  But,  in  pleading  the  Savior's  love  for 
Lazarus,  she  touches  the  deepest  sympathy  and  motive 
spring,  in  behalf  of  her  suffering  brother  —  "  He  whom 
Thou  lovest  is  sick."  And  then  she  does  not  say  — 
"  Come  and  cure  him."  No,  she  simply  informs  him  of 
the  fact,  and  leaves  it  to  his  love  to  pursue  such  a  course, 
in  reference  to  her  sick  brother,  as  he  might  deem  best. 
What  a  high  tone  of  spirituality  and  faith  is  indicated  in 
this  message !  What  an  implied  acquiescence  in  the 
divine  will,  antecedently  to  any  expression  of  his  purposes ; 


250  B  i:  T  II  A  N  Y ;    or, 

as  if  she  had  formally  said,  whether  my  brother  shall  live 
or  die,  I  know  not,  but,  Thy  will  be  done. 

When  this  mess.age  was  sent,  the  sisters  breathed  more 
freely,  for  an  oppressive  weight  was  taken  from  their 
burdened  hearts.  Now  the  Master  knows  that  Lazarus 
is  sick,  he  will  hasten  to  our  help,  and  all  will  yet  be  well, 

With  this  hope  they  wait  for  his  coming.  They  watch 
the  face  of  their  brother,  his  languid  eye  and  fading 
cheek ;  and,  as  he  grows  more  feeble,  and  seems  to  be 
sinking,  how  they  look  out  and  listen,  and  fancy  that  they 
hear  his  approaching  footsteps,  and  those  familiar  tones 
of  kindness.  But  still  he  comes  not.  Now  to  their 
thoughts  would  come  visitings  of  doubt  and  suspicion,  to 
heighten  the  pains  of  suspense.  What  is  the  meaning  of 
all  this  ?  Have  we  mistaken  his  friendship  ?  Is  our  con- 
fidence in  him  a  dream,  a  fond  delusion  ?  If  not,  why 
does  he  not  come  at  the  call  of  our  distress.  Ah  !  what 
hours  of  painful  suspense  and  gloomy  doubts,  which  almost 
strike  from  underneath  the  rock  of  their  trust.  How  do 
they,  with  intense  feelings,  pray  that  the  flickering  life 
might  linger  till  He  came,  who  was  able  to  save  even  from 
the  gate  of  death.  Slow  and  feverish  pass  the  moments, 
but  no  Savior  comes.  The  last  ray  of  hope  is  fading ;  the 
dreaded  hour  has  come ;  the  trembling  suspense  is  broken  ; 
Lazarus  is  dead! 

Oh !  what  gloom  enshrouds  that  once  happy  home  ! 
What  desolation !     But,  the  darkest  stroke,  the  deepest 


T  II  V.     CHRISTIAN     F  A  M  I  L  Y .  251 

touch  in  this  affliction,  was  the  seeming  indifference  of  the 
Savior  to  the  sorrowing  hearts  of  the  sisters. 

It  does  seem  strange,  even  to  us,  that  after  hearing  that 
Lazarus  was  sick,  Jesus  remained  two  days  in  the  same 
place.  To  the  sisters  it  must  have  seemed  as  the  most 
cruel  indifference.  That  He,  who  loved  to  linger  in  their 
home  wdien  all  was  bright  and  happy,  should  deter minately 
absent  himself  when  that  home  was  dark  with  trouble ; 
that  He,  to  whom  they  had  ministered  in  kindness,  should 
be  deaf  to  their  cry  of  distress,  was  indeed  mysterious. 
But  wait,  and  this  dark  cloud  will  pass  away,  and  all  will 
be  plain. 

What  the  Savior  said  concerning  the  design  of  this 
affliction,  "that  it  was  for  the  glory  of  God,"  is  not  only 
explanatory  of  his  seeming  insensibility  to  the  appeal  of 
the  sorrowing  sisters,  but  a  general  interpretation  of  the 
ways  of  Divine  Providence,  which,  to  '^our  weak,  erring 
sight,"  are  often  mysterious.  It  illustrates  that  in  this,  as 
in  every  similar  dispensation,  God  has  some  designs  of 
mercy  to  his  people  in  their  afflictions.  To  his  people, 
it  is  always  true,  that  — 

"Behind  a  frowning  providence, 
He  hides  a  smiling  face." 

How  changed  is  this  scene  of  domestic  affliction,  as  we 
look  at  it  in  the  light  of  this  declaration  of  Jesus ;  the 
dark  cloud  over  the  home  in  Bethany  is  full  of  mercy,  and 
will  break  in  blessings  on  their  heads. 


252  B.:riiANY;    or, 

"  Tills  sickness  is for  the  glory  of  God." 

This  was  realized  in  relation  to  those  more  immediately 
afl'ected  by  the  visitation  —  Lazarus  and  his  sisters. 

"Verily,  from  others'  griefs  are  gendered  sympathy  and  kindness  ; 
Patience,  humility,  and  faith,  spring  not  seldom  from  thine  own." 

Lazarus  was  no  doubt  blessed  by  his  sickness  and 
transient  visit  to  the  unseen  world.  From  the  intimate 
connection  and  sympathy  between  the  soul  and  body, 
whatever  affects  the  one  must  in  some  way  be  felt  by  the 
other.  And  often  the  sickness  of  the  body  is  made  con- 
ducive to  the  health  of  the  soul.  Some  of  the  hidden 
processes  of  this  beneficent  action  we  do  not  know. 
Other  methods  by  which  this  end  is  accomplished  are 
obvious  and  tangible. 

The  physical  prostration,  the  languor  and  depression 
of  the  bodily  powers  and  morbid  sensibilities,  inducing  a 
total  inaptitude  for  the  accustomed  pleasures  of  the 
world — how  such  a  condition  makes  palpable  to  the  sick 
man  the  utter  insufficiency  of  carnal  pleasures,  "  the  lust 
of  the  flesh,  the  lust  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of  life  !" 
How  the  idols  of  the  senses,  "  wooed,  embraced,  enjoyed, 
fall  from  his  arms  abhorred !"  How  wasting  sickness, 
when  pleasures  lose  their  power  to  please,  takes  the  false 
glitter  from  gold  and  ambition,  and  reveals  the  vanity 
of  the  world,  and  the  utter  insipidity  of  carnal  enjoy- 
ments.   It  is  good,  amidst  the  factitious  glare  of  the  world, 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  253 

and  the  fascination  of  the  senses,  to  have  the  realization 
of  these  things  as  they  appear  on  a  sick  bed.  And  then, 
in  addition  to  the  mellowing  influence  of  disease,  there  is 
that  isolation  from  the  world  peculiarly  favorable  to  a 
calm  vision  of  spiritual  things.  The  invalid  is  left  com- 
paratively alone  ;  and,  in  the  stillness  of  the  sick  chamber, 
there  is  time  for  the  introversion  of  his  mind,  and 
communion  with  himself.  And,  often  in  the  quietness  of 
meditation,  there  come  thoughts  of  the  past  and  the 
future,  of  God  and  eternity.  Truths  that  were  repulsed 
in  the  buoyancy  of  health  are  pondered  in  sickness,  and 
lips  unused  to  the  words  of  devotion  are  opened  in  prayer. 
Whilst  writing,  a  letter  is  handed  to  me  from  a  distant 
friend,  and  the  following  extract  from  it  is  a  practical 
illustration  of  what  has  just  been  said — "  Dear  Friend : — 
Some  months  ago  I  received  a  little  volume  from  you, 
which,  with  a  note  accompanying  it,  was  evidently  in- 
tended to  turn  my  attention  to  holy  things.  I  read  them, 
but  forbore  to  acknowledge  them,  lest  you  should  press 
me  more  upon  the  subject."  After  stating  that,  since 
then  he  had  been  laid  upon  a  bed  of  sickness,  he  proceeds 
to  say  —  ''^  Now  I  invite  your  assistance  to  show  me  the 
way  that  leads  to  eternal  life,  that  I  may  be  prepared  for 
either  life  or  death."     So  it  is  with  many. 

We  read  in  the  gospel  that,  when  they  brought  to  Christ 

one  that  was  deaf  and  had  an  impediment  in  his  speech, 

He  took  him  aside  from  the  multitude  and  healed  him. 

This  seems  typical  of  the  divine  method  in  healing.     The 

22 


254  r>  !•;  t  ii  a  n  y  ;    or, 

thoughtless  sinner  is  isolated  from  tlie  niultitutic,  and  Christ 

speaks  to  him  the  saving  ^vord  in  the  solitude  of  the  sick 

chamber.     And  many  can  attest  from  personal  experience 

that  their  sickness  has  been  blessed  to   their  souls,  and 

gratefully  unite  in  saying  with  the  Psalmist,  "Before  I 

was  afflicted  I  went  astray;  but  now  have  I  kept  Thy 

word." 

"Father,  I  bless  thy  gentle  hand! 
How  kind  was  thy  chastizing  rod, 
That  forced  my  conscience  to  a  stand, 
And  brought  my  wandering  soul  to  God." 

But  Lazarus  was  a  good  man ;  then  his  sickness  was 
designed  for  his  higher  sanctification.  It  is  important  the 
good  should  be  made  better,  as  well  as  that  the  bad  should 
be  reformed.  He  was  no  doubt  sanctified  by  this  sickness. 
In  that  quiet  home,  unmolested  by  the  busy  world,  happy 
in  the  affectionate  devotion  of  his  sisters,  he  may  have 
needed  this  very  disturbance  of  the  even  tenor  of  his  life, 
this  waking  up  of  the  repose  of  his  spiritual  nature,  and 
quickening  of  his  Christian  graces.  Besides,  as  he  does 
not  appear  to  have  been  much  engaged  in  the  public  ser- 
vices of  his  Master,  it  may  be  he  was  called  by  meekness 
and  patience  in  suffering  to  glorify  God.  It  is  probable 
that  both  these  ends  were  subserved  by  his  sickness  — 
"For,"  says  Christ,  "every  branch  that  beareth  fruit,  he 
purgeth  it,  that  it  may  bring  forth  more  fruit."  As  a 
child  of  God,  Lazarus  no  doubt  realized  that  disease  and 
affliction  are  but  altered  forms  of  mercy,  ordained  for  a 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  255 

blessed  ministry  —  that  physical  debility  is  sent  to 
establish  the  soul  in  firmer  health  and  fuller  strength,  to 
shed  into  it  the  peace  of  God  and  spirit  of  heaven.  And 
in  the  revision  of  this  afflictive  Providence,  conscious  of 
the  blessed  fruits  that  remained,  he  could  say  with  grateful 
fervor,  "  It  was  good  for  me  that  I  have  been  afflicted." 

The  Sisters  shared  in  the  blessings  of  this  affliction. 
The  sickness  was  both  a  personal  and  relative  blessing. 
It  called  into  exercise  those  quiet  and  social  virtues  that 
so  beautify  the  chamber  of  sickness.  How  the  sick  one 
evolves  the  affections,  intensifies  kindred  feelings,  and 
becomes  for  the  time  the  central  bond  of  unity  in  the 
household !  How  would  these  sisters,  in  their  sleepless 
vigils  and  ministry  of  kindness  to  their  sick  brother,  be 
schooled  in  all  that  pertains  to  patience,  and  hope,  and 
sympathy,  and  thus  become  perfected  in  their  Christian 
graces  and  spiritual  character.  Perhaps  they  needed 
this  painful  touch  of  the  Father's  hand  to  perfect  their 
Christian  character.  They  may  have  leaned  too  depend- 
ently  upon  that  only  brother,  and  they  must  learn  by  this 
afflictive  dispensation  not  to  repose  too  exclusively  upon 
an  arm  of  flesh.  In  the  absence  of  all  other  domestic 
ties,  they  may  have  loved  Lazarus  with  an  almost  idolatrous 
affection,  and  their  love  must  be  chastened.  They  could 
no  doubt  testify,  as  the  result  of  their  experience  in  this 
affliction,  that  although  "no  chastening  for  the  present 
seemeth  to  be  joyous,  but  grievous;   nevertheless  after- 


256  BETnANY;OR, 

wards  it  yicldcth  the  peaceable  fruit  of  righteousness  to 
those  that  are  exercised  thereby." 

But  that  sickness,  in  its  fatal  termination,  was  to  be 
instrumental  for  good  beyond  the  household.  Jesus  said 
to  the  disciples  —  "I  am  glad  for  your  sakes  that  I  was 
not  there,  to  the  intent  you  may  believe." 

It  would  give  occasion  for  such  manifestations  of  his 
divine  power,  as  would  confirm  their  faith  and  glorify  God. 
So  that  Christ  did  not  linger  at  a  distance  through  in- 
difference, or  want  of  sympathy  with  the  afflicted  family 
in  Bethany,  but  to  secure  higher  ends  than  they  could 
see.  There  was  a  wisely-adjusted  scheme  of  Providence, 
hidden  and  mysterious,  that  was  evolving  light  from 
darkness,  and  beautifully  elaborating  from  the  very 
elements  of  death  the  clearer  manifestations  of  life  and 
immortality.  How  impressively  does  the  sequel  of  this 
affecting  story  impress  upon  us  the  duty,  in  every  mys- 
terious providence,  to  stand  still  and  see  the  salvation  of 

God. 

"His  purposes  will  ripen  fast, 
Unfolding  every  hour: 
The  bud  may  have  a  bitter  taste, 
But  sweet  will  be  the  flower." 

Lest  we  should  anticipate  what  appropriately  belongs 
to  the  next  and  darkest  phase  of  this  Home-scene,  we 
,invite  you  to  go  with  us  again  to  Bethany,  now  the  house 
of  mourning. 


THE     CHRISTIAN     FAMILY.  257 

II.  —  Death  in  the  Home  of  Bethany, 

"  Our  friend  Lazarus  sleepeth." 

"Jesus  was  there  but  yesterday.      The  prints 
Of  His  departing  feet  were  at  the  door ; 
His  *  Peace  he  Avith  you ! '  was  yet  audible 
In  the  rapt  porch  of  Mary's  charmed  ear ; 

Yet,  within 

The  family  by  Jesus  loved  were  weeping, 
For  Lazarus  lay  dead." 

Over  that  bright  home  there  has  come  a  sudden  and 
overshadowing  cloud.  Who  can  picture  to  his  thoughts 
the  sad  and  silent  household,  without  being  touched  with 
sympathy  for  those  lovely  sisters  beside  the  couch  of 
death?  It  was  their  only  brother  —  to  whom,  in  the 
absence  of  parents  and  friends,  their  hearts  were  attached 
with  all  the  tenderness  and  confiding  helplessness  of  sis- 
terly afiection  —  one  who  was  to  them  more  than  all  the 
•world  beside  —  in  whom  they  had  treasured  up  the  golden 
drops  of  life.  They  had  sat  by  his  sick-bed  in  anxious 
vigils,  and  though  the  symptoms  were  serious,  hope  whis- 
pered to  their  troubled  fears  that  surely  a  kind  Provi- 
dence would  spare  their  only  earthly  stay;  that  surely 
one  so  essential  to  the  very  existence  of  their  home  —  one 
so  young  and  so  good,  must  be  spared  to  them.  But 
alas !  how  true,  in  the  experience  of  many  sorrowing 
hearts,  the  touching  sentiment  of  Wordsworth,  that  the 
brightest  lights  are  often  the  first  to  be  quenched ;  that 

"The  good  die  first; 
And  they  whose  hearts  are  dry  as  summer  dust 
Burn  to  the  socket." 

22* 


258  BETHANY;     OR, 

Still  in  the  alternations  of  hope  and  fear  they  watched 
beside  their  languishing  brother.  In  trembling  expect- 
ancy did  they  wait  for  the  coming  of  Jesus,  who  could 
relume  the  flickering  spark  of  life.  But  no  Savior  came. 
The  moment  from  which  in  dim  prospect  they  had  recoiled 
with  terror  has  come  —  the  dreaded  blow  has  fallen,  and 
they  bend  in  tearless  grief  and  silent  agony  over  the  cold 
and  lifeless  form  of  their  brother. 

"Lazarus  is  dead!" 

"That  form  which  love  had  whispered  would  be  last 
To  greet  their  dying  vision,  cold  and  still 
In  death  is  laid.     The  hand  which  they  had  cherished 
Would  return  no  pressure.     Those  lips  which  cheered 
Were  closed  in  marble  stillness,  and  gave  back 
No  fond  caress !" 

Who  can  realize  the  anguish  of  the  stricken  sisters,  with 
their  crushed  hearts  and  hopes,  as  they  stood  beside  that 
lifeless  form  ?  Or  picture  the  dark,  cold  shadows  of  utter 
desolation  that  settled  upon  that  home,  in  the  first  shock 
of  the  dread  reality !     None  but  those 

"Who  from  their  hearts 
Have  released  friends  to  heaven.     The  parting  soul 
Spreads  wing  betwixt  the  mourner  and  the  sky  I 
As  if  its  path  lay,  from  the  tie  last  broken. 
Straight  through  the  cheering  gateway  of  the  sun ; 
And,  to  the  eye  strain'd  after,  'tis  a  cloud 
That  bars  the  light  from  all  things." 

And  then  came  the  last  parting  with  the  loved  form, 
though  dead.     They  take  the  last  look,  and  bear  to  the 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  259 

tomb  all  that  was  left  of  their  departed  brother.  They 
return  to  a  home  from  which  the  light  and  joy  are  gone. 
Alas  !  to  them  their  home  is  drear  and  desolate  ! 

"  They  had  been  oft  alone 
When  Lazarus  had  followed  Christ,  to  hear 
His  teachings  in  Jerusalem;  but  this 
Was  more  than  solitude.      The  silence  now 
Was  void  of  expectation." 

The  first  outgushing  of  grief  subsides  into  the  deeper 
and  more  oppressive  gloom  of  desolation.  After  the 
excitement  of  the.  funeral  ceremonies  are  over,  all  is  quiet 
in  the  house  of  mourning ;  but  it  is  the  melancholy  still- 
ness of  the  calm,  darkly  brooding  over  the  wrecks  of  the 
recent  storm. 

But  let  us  withdraw  from  that  shadowed  home  of  grief. 
There  is  a  sorrow,  as  well  as  a  joy,  with  which  the 
stranger  should  not  intermeddle.  There  is  a  sacredness  in 
such  sorrow,  that  shrinks  from  the  public  eye.  We  would 
not,  if  we  could,  lift  the  veil  which  the  sacred  historian 
has  thrown  over  these  agonized  sisters  in  their  lonely 
sorrow. 

Not  long,  we  feel  assured,  will  the  Master  leave  them 
to  mourn,  uncomforted.  Not  long,  will  jBTe,  who  loved  the 
home,  which  had  so  often  welcomed  him  to  its  peaceful 
bosom,  leave  it  enshrouded  in  gloom.  Soon  will  He  come, 
i"who  turneth  the  shadow  of  death  into  the  morning." 
Soon  will  be  heard.  Lo  !  the  Master  cometh ;  and  on  his 
lips  are  the  words  of  life  and  immortality 


2G0  BETHANY;   on, 


III. — Light  in  the  Home  of  Bethany. 

**  There  is  a  day  of  sunny  rest, 
For  every  dark  and  troubled  night, 
And  grief  may  hide  an  evening  guest, 
•But  joy  shall  come  "with  early  light." 

"And  ^fartha,  called  Mary  her  sister,  secretly  saying,  the  Master 
is  come  and  calleth  for  thee." — John. 

"  Wheu  I  bring  a  cloud  over  the  earth,  the  bow  shall  be  seen  in 
the  cloud." — Genesis. 

The  dark  cloud  is  passing  from  the  home  in  Bethany ; 
and,  true  to  what  was  symbolized  in  the  ancient  token  and 
promise,  we  see  upon  the  disc  of  the  retiring  storm  the 
beauteous  bow,  the  token  of  God's  everlasting  covenant 
with  his  people. 

The  meeting  of  Christ  with  the  bereaved  sisters,  the  out- 
burst of  their  grief,  the  sublime  and  thrilling  w^ords 
uttered  by  Jesus  in  an  hour  when  "bereavement,  dimmed 
with  tears  and  fainting  with  sorrow,  was  sighing  for  help 
more  than  human ;"  the  gathering  at  the  tomb,  the  son 
of  God  in  tears,  the  resurrection  word,  the  coming  forth 
of  Lazarus,  all  constitute  a  moral  picture,  simple,  touch- 
ing, sublime,  without  a  parallel,  in  literature  sacred  or 
profane.  We  almost  fear  to  attempt  any  expansion  of  the 
simple  scene,  lest  by  an  unskilful  touch  we  should  mar  its 
beauty,  or  break  the  power  of  its  moral  grandeur  and  im- 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  261 

pressiveness.  Before  saying  a  word  upon  this  touching 
interview,  we  would  ask  you  to  look  at  the  affecting 
scene,  as  it  appears  in  its  simple  beauty  and  unconscious 
sublimity  on  the  sacred  page. — (John  xi,  19-45.) 

^' And  many  of  the  Jews  came  to  Martha  and  Mary,  to 
comfort  them  concerning  their  brother. 

Then  Martha,  as  soon  as  she  heard  that  Jesus  was 
coming,  went  and  met  him :  but  Mary  sat  still  in  the 
house. 

Then  said  Martha  unto  Jesus,  Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been 
here,  my  brother  had  not  died. 

But  I  know,  that  even  now,  whatsoever  thou  wilt  ask 
of  God,  God  will  give  it  thee. 

Jesus  said  unto  her.  Thy  brother  shall  rise  again. 

Martha  said  unto  him,  I  know  that  he  shall  rise  again 
in  the  resurrection  at  the  last  day. 

Jesus  said  unto  her,  I  am  the  resurrection,  and  the 
life :  he  that  believeth  in  me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet 
shall  he  live  : 

And  whosoever  liveth  and  believeth  in  me  shall  never 
die.     Believest  thou  this  ? 

She  saith  unto  him,  Yea,  Lord :  I  believe  that  thou  art 
the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  which  should  come  into  the 
world. 

And  when  she  had  so  said,  she  went  her  way,  and 
called  Mary  her  sister  secretly,  saying,  The  Master  is 
eome,  and  calleth  for  thee. 


262  r  i:  T II  A  N  Y ;    on, 

As  soon  as  she  heard  that,  she  arose  quickly,  and  came 
unto  liim. 

Now  Jesus  was  not  yet  come  into  the  town,  but  was  in 
that  place  where  Martha  met  him. 

The  Jews  then  which  were  with  her  in  the  house,  and 
comforted  her,  when  they  saw  Mary,  that  she  rose  up 
hastily  and  went  out,  followed  her,  saying.  She  goeth  unto 
the  grave  to  weep  there. 

Then  when  Mary  was  come  where  Jesus  was,  and  saw 
him,  she  fell  down  at  his  feet,  saying  unto  him.  Lord,  if 
thou  hadst  been  here,  my  brother  had  not  died. 

When  Jesus  therefore  saw  her  weeping,  and  the  Jews 
also  weeping  which  came  with  her,  he  groaned  in  the 
spirit,  and  was  troubled. 

And  said.  Where  have  ye  laid  him  ?  They  said  unto 
him.  Lord,  come  and  see. 

Jesus  wept. 

Then  said  the  Jews,  Behold  how  he  loved  him ! 

And  some  of  them  said,  Could  not  this  man,  which 
opened  the  eyes  of  the  blind,  have  caused  that  even  this 
man  should  not  have  died  ? 

Jesus  therefore  again  groaning  in  himself  cometh  to  the 
grave.     It  was  a  cave,  and  a  stone  lay  upon  it. 

Jesus  said.  Take  ye  away  the  stone.  Martha,  the  sister 
of  him  that  was  dead,  saith  unto  him.  Lord,  by  this  time 
he  stinketh ;  for  he  hath  been  dead  four  days. 

Jesus  said  unto  her,  Said  I  not  unto  thee,  that,  if  thou 
wouldest  believe,  thou  shouldest  see  the  glory  of  God  ? 


THE    CHRISTIAN     FAMILY.  26^ 

Then  they  took  away  the  stone /row  the  place  where  the 
dead  was  laid.  And  Jesus  lifted  up  Jiis  eyes,  and  said, 
Father,  I  thank  thee  that  thou  hast  heard  me. 

And  I  know  that  thou  hearest  me  always  :  but  because 
of  the  people  which  stand  by  I  said  it,  that  they  may 
believe  that  thou  hast  sent  me. 

And  when  he  thus  had  spoken,  he  cried  with  a  loud 
voice,  Lazarus,  come  forth. 

And  he  that  was  dead  carae  forth,  bound  hand  and  foot 
with  grave-clothes ;  and  his  face  was  bound  about  with  a 
napkin.     Jesus  saith  unto  him,  Loose  him,  and  let  him  go. 

Then  many  of  the  Jews  which  came  to  Mary,  and  had 
seen  the  things  which  Jesus  did,  believed  on  him." 

We  notice  the  meeting,  the  words  of  Jesus,  to  the  be- 
reaved sisters,  and  the  resurrection  scene. 

1.  The  Meeting, — Four  days  had  passed  since  the  death 
of  Lazarus.  Lonely  and  desolate  is  the  house  at  Bethany. 
The  dead  is  buried  ;  but  grief  lives,  and  the  hours  pass  in 
silent  agony.  The  neighbors  from  the  village  come  to 
sympathize  with  the  bereaved  sisters,  and  many  friends 
from  Jerusalem  are  with  them  to  comfort  them  concerning 
their  brother.  Grateful  to  their  pained  affections  were  these 
tokens  of  kindness  and  the  sympathy  of  friends.  But 
there  was  little  in  all  this  to  break  the  midnight  gloom 
that  was  over  their  home  and  hearts. 

At  length  the  Master  approaches.  Martha,  with  her 
characteristic  activity,  first  hearing  of  his  coming,  goes 
out  to  meet  him.     After  a  short  interview,  she  returns  to 


2G4  B  E  T  II  A  N  Y  ;     0  R  , 

I^Iary,  saying,  "  Tlic  Master  is  come  and  calleth  for  thee." 
And  Mary  instantly  goes  out  to  meet  liim. 

Though,  in  their  apprehension,  he  had  come  too  late, 
still  is  he  met  with  the  most  cordial  -welcome.  He  had 
not  responded  to  their  earnest  appeal ;  but  they  never 
question  his  friendship  or  suspect  his  goodness.  But  as 
the  sick  chamber,  with  its  anxious  fears  and  hopes,  and 
thoughts  of  their  departed  brother,  all  come  crowding  upon 
their  minds,  they  give  vent  to  their  painful  and  conflicting 
emotions  in  the  same  outburst  of  feeling  —  "  Lord,  if  thou 
hadst  been  here  my  brother  had  not  died."  What  natural 
and  living  truth  is  there  in  this  simple  trait  of  feeling ! 
Many  had  been  the  dying  whom  his  touch,  his  word,  had 
given  back  to  life ;  and,  had  he  stood  by  the  bedside  of  his 
expiring  friend,  the  tomb  would  have  remained  unopened. 
So  thought  the  sisters. 

And  is  not  this  the  language  of  our  common  nature, 
mingling  its  vain  regrets  with  the  resignation  of  sincere 
and  simple  faith.  It  is  the  experience  of  many  in  seasons 
of  bereavement.  If  this  or  that  had  been  done  —  if  this 
or  that  physician  had  been  called  —  if  some  other  course 
had  been  adopted  —  the  blow  might  have  been  averted. 
How  that  emphatic  zj,  adds  to  the  afflictive  blow  by  di- 
verting the  mind  from  the  primal  source  of  our  afflictions, 
and  bewildering  the  heart  in  the  labyrinthine  maze  of 
second  causes,  which  no  mortal  can  thread,  and  in  which 
no  soul  of  man  ever  found  repose.  And  was  it  not,  in 
the  case  of  the  sisters,  a  sad  delusion,  growing  out  of  their 


THE     CHRISTIAN     FAMILY.  2G5 

defective  views  of  the  po^ver  and  providence  of  God. 
For  Christ  had  purposely  brought  about  the  very  con- 
tingency named  by  the  sisters.  He  knew  that  Lazarus 
was  sick,  and  for  that  very  reason  lingered  on  his  way  to 
Bethany  —  waited  for  him  to  die.  And  all  this,  not  from 
any  want  of  sympathy  or  kindly  regard  for  the  sorrowing 
sisters,  but  to  secure  higher  ends  of  the  Divine  adminis- 
tration ;  it  was  essential  to  the  religious  nurture  and 
elevation  of  that  very  family,  that  Lazarus  should  die. 
And  when  all  the  mystic  folds  of  that  providence  were 
opened,  how  would  those  sisters — with  a  more  living  faith 
and  a  richer  experience  of  the  divine  love  —  thank  God 
that  Christ  was  not  there,  and  that  Lazarus  had  been  left 
to  die. 

This  touching  experience  of  the  sisters  is  a  beautiful 
illustration  of  the  promise,  "  that  all  things  work  together 
for  good,  to  those  that  love  God."  It  shows  that  in  the 
most  complicated  scenes  of  trial  there  is  divine  order, 
working  out  the  happiest  issues. 

"  Thy  hand,  0  God,  conducts  unseen, 
The  beautiful  vicissitude/' 

Let  us  learn  never  to  despair.  Whatever  mystery  may 
encompass  our  path — whatever  contingencies  may  seem  to 
mock  our  prayers  and  disappoint  our  hopes,  until  our 
hearts  tremble  with  gloomy  thoughts  and  fears  —  still  let 
us  trust  and  wait.  He  leads  us  through  deep  waters  ;  but 
their  baptism  is  that  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  His  waves  and 
billows  may  go  over  us,  but  they  bear  our  souls  nearer  to 
23 


their  heavenly  rest.  The  outward  he  makes  subservient 
to  the  inward,  the  body  to  the  soul,  time  to  eternity. 
Whatever,  then,  may  be  the  source  of  your  fear  or 
despondency,  say  with  David — "Why  art  thou  cast  down, 
0  my  soul  ?  and  why  art  thou  disquieted  within  me  ? 
Hope  in  God :  for  I  shall  yet  praise  him,  -who  is  the 
health  of  my  countenance,  and  my  God." 

The  first  interview  with  Jesus  is  characteristic  of  the 
two  sisters.  With  Martha  the  mourning  was  more  of  a 
sudden  outburst  of  feeling ;  with  Mary  it  w\as  a  deeper 
and  an  intenser  sorrow,  and  therefore  a  more  quiet  and 
lasting  grief,  seeking  silence  and  seclusion.  The  language 
of  both  is  the  same,  as  they  met  Jesus  —  "  Lord,  if  thou 
hadst  been  here."  But  see  how  differently  they  are 
affected  by  the  same  exclamation.  Martha,  after  this  first 
expression  of  her  feelings,  seems  to  enter  into  conversation 
with  the  Savior  with  entire  composure  and  self-possession. 
But  Mary,  with  her  sensitive  and  impassioned  nature,  is 
more  profoundly  stirred  by  her  sorrow^,  and  from  excessive 
feeling  can  neither  speak  nor  reason.  With  that  out- 
gushing  of  her  heart,  "  Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been  here,"  &c., 
she  sank  in  speechless  sorrow  at  his  feet. 

3.  And  how  beautifully  does  the  Savior  adapt  himself 
to  the  peculiar  tempernment  of  the  sisters.  To  Martha, 
who  is  self-possessed  and  seeks  for  some  words  of  con- 
solation. He  utters  those  sublime  and  thrilling  words,  "  I 
am  the  resurrection  and  the  life" — "thy  brother  shall  rise 
again."     To  Mary,  who  is  too  absorbed  with  her  grief  for 


THE     CHRISTIAN     FAMILY.  267 

words,  he  gives  nothing  but  sympathy ;  it  was  all  she  was 
prepared  to  receive ;  it  was  all  she  needed.  ''  When 
Jesus  therefore  saw  her  weeping  ...  he  groaned  in  spirit 
and  was  troubled."  To  Mary  this  silent  sympathy  was 
more  than  all  spoken  words.  With  Martha  Jesus  rea- 
soned ;  with  Mary  He  wept.  How  suggestive  is  this  to 
those  who  are  called  to  minister  to  the  bereaved.  The 
same  method  and  words  of  consolation  are  not  suited  alike 
to  all.  With  some  we  may  reason  as  Jesus  did  with 
Martha,  and  speak  the  promises ;  whilst  to  others  we  can 
only  give  our  silent  sympathy  and  tears. 

2.  The  Consolation. — ''  Blessed  are  they  that  mourn  ; 
for  they  shall  be  comforted."  (Jesus.)  Few  can  read  this 
record  of  the  conversation  of  Jesus  with  the  sorrowing 
sisters,  and  of  the  scene  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  with- 
out an  increasing  faith  and  a  profounder  reverence.  Jesus 
appears  in  all  the  gentle  sympathies  of  his  humanity,  and 
in  all  the  moral  majesty  of  the  Godhead.  A¥e  ponder 
every  word  of  that  interview  of  the  Savior  with  the  sis- 
ters of  Bethany  —  a  season  no  less  memorable  for  the 
unfolding  of  his  heart  than  for  its  stupendous  miracle 
of  omnipotent  mercy.  Thanks  be  to  God  for  those  words 
that  have  unsealed  the  grave  and  unveiled  the  future ; 
that  the  omnipotent  fiat  has  swept  over  the  valley  of  death 
in  the  sight  of  the  living ;  that  the  long  procession  of  the 
dying  has  been  met  and  turned  back  by  the  Lord  of  Life  ! 
To  these  mourning  sisters  Christ  uttered  words  of  con- 
solation —  precious  words  of  life  and  immortality ;  words 


668  BETHANY;     OR, 

in  which  gleamed  the  hope  of  the  reunion  of  kindred  saints 
in  glory. 

1.  "  Thy  brother  shall  rise  again."  This  met  the 
special  want  of  the  questioning  Martha.  She  believed 
in  the  resurrection  of  the  body ;  it  was  an  article  of  the 
national  creed.  But  the  belief  of  a  general  resurrection 
did  not  meet  the  yearning  of  a  heart  that  wept  for  an  only 
brother.  However  cheering  to  individual  expectation,  it 
was  not  enough  for  bereaved  affection.  It  was  to  such 
sorrow,  one  of  the  bitterest  in  the  world  —  that  of  a  sister 
left  alone  in  the  world  —  that  Jesus  speaks ;  and  He  says, 
"  Thy  brother  shall  live  again." 

"  Thy  brother  shall  live  again."  This  was  comfort  to 
the  sorrowing  sister.  Thy  brother  shall  rise  again  —  thy 
brother !  Not  some  undefined  and  spiritual  substance 
shall  be  eliminated  from  the  chaos  and  gloom  of  the 
grave  —  not  some  new  and  strange  being  shall  go  forth 
from  the  tomb;  "but  life  —  life,  in  its  character,  its 
affections,  its  spiritual  identity,  such  as  it  is  here :  thy 
brother  shall  rise  again."  He  is  not  lost  to  thee ;  he 
shall  not  be  so  spiritually  transformed,  or  commingled 
with  the  hosts  of  the  redeemed,  as  to  elude  the  recognition 
of  sisterly  affection.  In  that  happy  world  you  shall  find 
him. again  —  find  thy  brother  !  0  blessed  revelation!  our 
loved  ones,  who  have  died  in  Jesus,  not  only  live,  but  we 
shall  know  them,  and  be  with  them  evermore.  And  there 
shall  be  a  glorious  fellowship  of  Christian  kindred  with 
one  another  and  with  Jesus  forever ! 


THE     CHKISTIAN    FAMILY.  269 

But  full  as  this  assurance  was  of  comfort  and  of  glory, 
it  did  not  fully  satisfy  Martha ;  it  was  too  dim  and  dis- 
tant. Her  heart  in  its  troubled  grief  yearned  for  some- 
thing near  and  tangible.  There  seemed  to  float  in  her 
thoughts  som.e  undefined  hope  that  her  Lord  might,  even 
then,  interpose  his  power  and  restore  the  departed  bro- 
ther. And  with  this  hope  trembling  in  her  heart  she 
says,  "  I  know  that  even  now,  whatsoever  thou  wilt  ask 
of  God,  God  will  give  it  thee."  To  this  suggestion  the 
Savior  does  not  reply;  he  does  not  tell  her  whether  her 
brother  shall  immediately  come  back  to  her ;  but  utters 
himself  in  a  more  general  and  a  grander  truth. 

2.  In  addition  to  the  inexpressible  comfort  and  hope 
already  given,  the  Savior  says  to  Martha,  in  tones  of 
majesty,  uttered  with  the  most  solemn  and  joyous  em- 
phasis, "I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life ;  he  that 
believeth  in  me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live." 

Martha  had  expressed  her  belief  in  a  general  resur- 
rection at  the  last  day ;  but  she  seemed  not  to  associa.te 
this  resurrection  with  Jesus  as  the  cause  and  the  agent. 
The  Redeemer  therefore  gathers,  as  it  were,  and  merges 
the  general  resurrection  into  Himself,  and  says,  "I  am 
the  resurrection  and  the  life." 

What  words  are  these,  to  be  uttered  in  a  world  of  the 

dying,  amidst  the  wrecks  of  time,  the  memorials  of  buried 

generations !     What  words  for  those  weeping  sisters,  and 

for  our  weeping  humanity  in  all  times,  yearning  for  some 

23* 


270  BETHANY;    OR, 

hcavcn-scnt  voice  to  break  the  silence  of  the  grave,  and 
speak  of  life  among  the  sleeping  dead  ! 

"And  whosoever  liveth  and  believeth  in  me  shall  never 
die."  That  is,  says  an  eloquent  writer,  he  that  believeth 
in  me,  rccciveth  me — hath  the  spirit,  the  spiritual  life 
that  is  in  me  —  is  already  living  an  immortal  life.  He 
shall  never  die.  That  in  him  which  partakes  of  my 
inward  life,  shall  never  die.  It  is  essentially  immortal, 
and  immortally  blessed ;  and  no  dark  eclipse  shall  come 
over  it,  between  death  and  the  resurrection,  to  bury  it  in 
the  gloom  of  utter  unconsciousness,  or  to  cause  it  to  wan- 
der like  a  shadov/  in  the  dim  realms  of  an  intermediate 
state.  "  I  am  the  resurrection.  Thy  brother,  who  hath 
part  in  me,  lives  now  as  truly  as  I  live." 

^' Believest  thou  this?"  This  was  the  point  upon 
which  depended  their  personal  consolation  in  this  be- 
reavement. Faith  in  him  as  the  Savior  of  the  world,  and 
as  their  Savior ;  as  one  who  had  atoned  for  sin,  and  was 
commissioned  to  bring  life  and  immortality  clearly  to 
light ;  as  one  who,  through  his  own  death  and  resur- 
rection, should  open  the  way  to  heaven.  This  humble, 
heart-faith  in  Jesus,  is  what  they  specially  needed  at  this 
crisis  of  their  trial.  It  is  what  we  all  need,  and  must 
have,  if  we  would  be  comforted  when  forsaken,  bereaved, 
•»and  broken-hearted  with  some  crushing  trial.  And  more 
than  we  know  can  this  faith  —  the  breathing  of  the  life 
of  Jesus  in  us,  the  bright  cloud  around  us  in  which  he 
walked — bring  strength  and  comfort  in  the  hour  of  mortal 


THE     CHRISTIAN     FAMILY.  271 

sorrow  and  bitterness.  And  hence  Christ  specially  pro- 
poses to  the  bereaved  sisters  faith  in  him  as  their  only 
comfort. 

" Believest  thou  this?"  There  is  something  beautiful 
in  the  humble  modesty  and  yet  whole-heartedness  of 
Martha's  reply.  It  was  half  evasive,  and  its  only  fulness 
was  that  of  the  heart.  "  Yea,  Lord :  I  believe  that  thou 
art  the  Christ,  the  son  of  God,  who  should  come  into  the 
world."  It  was  the  spontaneous  expression  of  her  faith 
in  Jesus,  as  the  son  of  God,  the  Savior,  the  resurrection 
and  the  life.  And,  as  if  now  satisfied  and  comforted,  she 
goes  to  call  Mary,  that  she  may  participate  in  the  words 
of  consolation  that  fell  from  the  Master's  lips. 


THE    RESURRECTION    SCENE. 

"  Lo !  Jesus'  power  the  sleep  of  death  hath  broken, 
And  wiped  the  tear  from  sorrow's  drooping  eye  I 
Look  up,  ye  mourners,  hear  what  He  hath  spoken  — 
*  He  that  believes  on  me  shall  never  die.' " 

Let  us  go  with  the  Master  and  these  sorrowing  sisters 
to  the  grave  of  Lazarus.  We  have  sympathized  with 
them  in  their  sorrow,  we  will  also  share  in  their  joys. 
"  Rejoice  with  them  that  do  rejoice,  and  weep  with  them 
that  weep,"  is  the  admonition  of  the  inspired  Apostle. 

When  Jesus  saw  Mary  at  his  feet  in  tears,  and  the  Jews 
that   came   with    her   weeping,   he  was    deeply  moved. 


2r2  u  i:  t  ii  a  n  v  ;    o  u , 

Although  conscious  of  a  power  mightier  than  death,  and 
knowing  how  soon  that  shadow  of  death  would  ho  turned 
into  the  morning ;  yet,  as  he  stood  there,  and  the  awful 
disasters  of  sin  flashed  before  his  omniscient  eye,  and  he 
beheld  the  bereavement  and  agony  of  the  mourners,  he 
groaned  in  spirit  and  was  troubled.  And  as  he  goes  with 
those  stricken  hearts  to  the  sepulchre,  conscious  of  his 
triumph  over  the  grave,  he  is  touched  to  tears,  and  we  see 
the  tenderness  of  his  humanit}^  and  the  majesty  of  the 
Godhead,  blended  in  that  scene,  "Jesus  wept."  How  has 
the  heart  of  the  world  lingered  over  this  shortest  sentence 
of  the  Bible  !  How  has  it  stood  pictured  to  the  heart  a 
thing  of  beauty  and  of  majesty,  and  a  joy  forever.  The 
son  of  God  in  tears !  Thanks  be  to  God  for  that  attitude 
of  the  Savior,  and  for  his  tears  !  "  For  thoso  tears  of  the 
divine  man  are  links  binding  us  immediately  to  the  throne 
of  God,  and  the  rainbow  which  is  around  it."  Those 
tears,  it  has  been  beautifully  said,  are  like  stars  which 
sparkle  for  the  comfort  of  our  sorrowing  humanity  ;  once 
beheld,  they  may  be  said  to  be  always  on  the  firmament, 
but  are  never  seen  without  reminding  us  of  the  grave  over 
which  they  rose. 

He  had  just  proclaimed  himself  to  the  bereaved  friends 
at  Bethany^  as  ^Uhe  resurrection  and  the  life;"  and  now 
he  will  actualize  the  declaration  with  a  voice  that  shall 
startle  the  dead,  and  rob  the  grave  of  victory.  In  silent 
majesty  the  son  of  God  steps  to  the  mouth  of  the  sepul- 
chre,   and   says,    "Take   away  the    stone."     An   awful 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  273 

suspense  pervades  that  sorrowful  group,  as  He  lifts  his 
tearful  eyes  to  heaven  in  the  prayer,  "Father,  I  thank 
thee,  that  thou  hast  heard  me." 

"He  ceased, — 
And  for  a  minute's  space  there  was  a  hush, 
As  if  th'  angelic  watchers  of  the  world 
Had  stay'd  the  pulses  of  all  breathing  things, 
To  listen  to  that  prayer." 

As  the  deep  and  tremulous  tones  of  that  prayer  still 
thrilled  through  the  listening  group,  and  the  sisters,  in 
breathless  suspense,  are  trembling  with  alternate  doubt 
and  expectancy,  the  omnific,  life-giving  word  is  spoken  — 
"  Lazarus,  come  forth." 

"Come  forth,"  he  cries,  "  thou  dead  !" 

0  God !  what  means  that  strange  and  sudden  sound 
That  murmurs  from  the  tomb,  that  ghastly  head 

With  funeral  fillets  bound ! 
It  is  a  living  form! — 

The  loved,  the  lost,  the  toon  — 
Won  from  the  grave,  corruption,  and  the  worm. 

And  is  not  this  the  Son 
Of  God  ?  they  whispered,  while  the  sisters  poured 
Their  gratitude  in  tears ;  for  they  had  known  the  Lord.'' 

It  seemed  to  them,  just  roused  from  their  delirium  of 
sorrow,  like  some  strange  dark  dream  of  the  night  when 
one  waketh.  And  yet  it  is  no  dream — no  wild  phantom  ; 
what  they  see  is  no  illusion  of  the  fancy,  no  sweet  hope 
merely — it  is  a  blessed  reality — it  is  their  brother  returned 
from  the  land  of  darkness  and  mystery — 


274  T.  E  Tii  A  N  y ;    or, 

"And  Mary  with  hor  dark  veil  thrown  aside, 
Ran  to  him  swiftly,  and  cried,  Lazarus! 
My  brother  Lazarus  !  and  tore  away 
The  napkin  she  had  bound  about  his  head — 
And  touch'd  the  warm  lips  with  her  fearful  hand, 
And  on  his  neck  fell  weeping." 

Oh !  with  what  feelings  of  adoring  gratitude,  did  Lazarus 
and  his  sisters  kneel  together  in  their  evening  worship ! 
Never  before  had  they  gathered  around  their  altar  of 
prayer  with  such  ecstacy  of  joy,  such  intense  family 
feeling,  such  unutterable  gratitude  to  Him,  who  had 
turned  the  shadow  of  death  into  the  morning,  and  given 
them,  the  "  oil  of  joy  for  mourning,  and  the  garments  of 
praise  for  the  spirit  of  heaviness."  We  now  take  our 
leave  of  this  home-scene ;  and  after  this  chastening  of  the 
Lord,  it  will  live  in  our  memory  more  than  ever,  as  the 
united,  happy,  sanctified,  beautiful  Eome  of  Bethany, 

We  have  been  communing  with  afiliction  in  the  family, 
and  we  have  heard  the  voice  of  joy  from  the  chambers  of 
mourning  and  death.  May  we  realize,  that  "  It  is  better 
to  go  to  the  house  of  mourning,  than  to  go  to  the  house 
of  feasting ;  for  that  is  the  end  of  all  men ;  and  the 
living  will  lay  it  to  heart."  Let  us  improve  the  lessons  of 
this  visitation  in  thought,  to  the  home  of  sickness  and 
death. 

1.  Let  us  not  expect  that  our  homes  can  be  exempted 
from  this  common  affliction  of  our  humanity.  Sooner  or 
later,  sickness  and  sorrow  will  invade  our  households,  and 
our  happy  homes  will   be  overcast  with  the  shadows  of 


THE     C  II  HI  S  T  I  A  N     FAMILY.  2(5 

death.  And  there  is  much  in  what  we  have  seen  of  the 
Lord's  dealings  with  the  afflicted  family  of  Bethany, 
which,  if  remembered,  w^ill  serve  to  comfort  our  hearts,  and 
give  us  peace  and  resignation,  when  the  days  of  darkness 
come. 

To  the  Christian  family,  sickness  will  come  as  it  came  to 
Bethany,  on  a  mission  of  mercy.  And,  however  painful  in 
the  endurance,  it  will  be  sanctified  not  only  to  the  member 
afflicted,  but  to  the  entire  household.  So  that  we  may 
welcome  to  our  families,  not  only  the  angel  of  gladness, 
but  the  angel  of  affliction,  for  they  are  alike  God's 
messengers  of  goodness. 

"  Evil  and  good  before  him  stand, 
Their  mission  to  perform." 

How  comforting  when  a  member  of  the  family  is  sick, 
to  make  our  appeal  for  the  loved  one  to  the  great  physi- 
cian, who  is  our  friend  and  Savior !  and  like  these 
sisters,  who  watched  beside  their  languishing  brother, 
send  up  our  message  to  Jesus  upon  the  throne,  saying, 
"Lord,  he  whom  thou  lovest  is  sick." 

And  w^e  may  do  this,  conscious  that  he  is  as  accessible 
to  the  voice  of  prayer  now,  as  when  he  walked  the  land 
of  Palestine;  and  that  he  is  as  near  to  the  believing 
heart  engaged  in  prayer,  as  he  was  to  Mary  in  Bethany ; 
conscious  that  he  is  the  same  in  the  tenderness  of  his 
sympathy  as  when  he  wept  with  those  sorrowing  sisters, 
and  as  mighty  to  save  as  when  his  voice  rang  through  the 


2TG  lktiiany;    or, 

cliiiinbcrs  of  death,  and  recalled  Lazarus  from  the 
plmnbcrs  of  tlic  grave.  Oh  !  what  a  burden  is  lifted  from 
the  anxious  heart  watching  beside  some  loved  one  in  sick- 
ness, to  know  that  we  can  tell  the  Savior,  and  feel  that 
he  is  near  and  can  help  us.  Parent,  is  your  child  sick; 
sister,  is  your  brother  sick ;  go  to  Jesus.  Do  all  you  can 
for  the  afflicted  one,  use  every  human  expedient  for  their 
restoration,  but  neglect  not  Him  who  is  the  author  of  life, 
and  in  whose  hand  is  the  breath  of  every  living  thing. 
"Is  any  afflicted,  let  him  pray."  Is  there  some  mother 
whose  babe  is  fading  in  sickness  ?  Is  there  some  sister 
watching  beside  a  brother  in  the  agonies  of  death  ?  pray, — 
"  Blessed  Savior,  if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from 
me."  Let  not  this  beautiful  blossom  of  my  affections,  let 
not  this  loved  one  of  our  household,  w^aste  away  and  die  ! 
You  may  utter  such  a  prayer  ;  yet,  leaving  the  issue  wholly 
in  his  hands,  add  with  Christian  resignation,  "  Oh !  my 
Father,  if  this  cup  may  not  pass  away  except  I  drink  it, 
thy  will  be  done." 

And,  submissive  to  the  divine  will,  committing  the  sick 
one  thus  in  faith  to  the  Lord  of  life,  you  can  confidently 
leave  the  issues  with  God.  If  no  answer  come  you  will 
receive  at  heart  this  response,  given  to  the  sisters.  "  This 
sickness  is  for  the  glory  of  God."  And  that  conviction 
entertained  will  relieve  the  anxious  suspense,  and  enable 
the  soul  to  believe  that  the  sickness,  whether  for  life  or 
death,  shall  be  for  the  divine  glory.  This  answer  of 
Christ  to  the   message   of  the   sisters   gives  a  new  and 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  277 

sacred  aspect  to  sickness.  If  personally  afflicted  we  can 
console  ourselves  with  the  reflection,  that  though  we  cannot 
do  much  for  the  Savior's  honor,  we  can  bear  in  meekness 
and  Christian  patience  our  allotted  sufi'erings,  and  thus 
glorify  God.  Lazarus  lived  in  comparative  obscurity  ;  he 
is  laid  upon  a  bed  of  sickness,  and  it  is  there  he  may  sub- 
serve the  glory  of  God,  as  really  as  if  engaged  in  the 
more  public  and  active  scenes  of  the  ministry.  And 
thus,  we,  though  not  called  to  achieve  heroic  deeds  in  the 
eyes  of  the  world,  may,  by  meek  christian  patience  in  the 
chamber  of  sickness,  honor  Christ.  Or,  if  called  to  watch 
beside  some  one  who  is  lingering  on  the  couch  of  pain,  we 
may,  in  kindly  ministrations  to  the  sick,  honor  Christ. 
The  devotion  of  a  sister  or  child,  ministering  for  months 
beside  an  afflicted  brother,  or  comforting  through  years 
the  bed-ridden  winter  of  a  parent's  age,  may  contain  a 
holier  martyrdom  than  any  which  the  church  has 
canonized. 

There  is,  therefore,  a  present  blessing  in  sickness  to  the 
Christian  family.  It  is  a  blessing  to  the  members  afflicted. 
Perhaps  he  needed  that  prostration  to  deepen  the  sense 
of  dependence  upon  God;  perhaps  it  was  needed  to 
isolate  him  from  the  distractions  of  care  and  business, 
and  leave  him  alone  for  thought,  meditation,  and  prayer. 
Whatever  may  be  the  particular  need,  the  sickness,  if  it 
is  borne  in  meekness  and  prayer,  will  be  productive  of 
spiritual  improvement.  There  are  lessons  of  patience  and 
submission  to  be  learned  there  —  a  mellowing  of  the  spirit 
24 


278  r>  K  T  II  A  N  Y ;    or, 

in  the  cloudy  autumu  of  weakness  and  debility.  Just  as 
of  old  the  sick  and  blind  Aveie  brought  to  Christ  by  afflic- 
tion, so,  many  now  are  led  through  physical  suifcring  to 
seek  the  salvation  of  their  souls.  Many  can  look  back  to 
scenes  of  trial  and  sickness,  with  gratitude  to  God. 

"Blest  trials  those  that  cleanse  from  sin, 
And  make  the  soul  all  pure  within, 
Wean  the  fond  mind  from  earthly  toys, 
To  seek  and  taste  celestial  joys." 

And,  so,  the  other  members  of  the  family  are  indirectly 
blessed  by  the  afflicted  one.  We  know  how  a  sick  member 
of  the  household  develops  and  exercises  the  sympathies 
and  gentle  ministrations  of  the  other  members.  How  it 
calls  forth  affection;  how  the  heart  will  put  forth  a 
strength  and  richness  of  blessing  never  known  before. 
Says  one  —  "A  crippled  and  suffering  child  seems  the 
heaviest  of  domestic  afflictions.  Yet,  once  confided  to 
our  care,  what  an  object  of  tender  interest  it  becomes ! 
What  pure  and  gentle  affections  hover  over  it !  What  a 
web  of  soft  and  fostering  duty  is  woven  round  it !  It 
gives  new  value  and  beauty  to  life !  We  would  keep  it 
with  us  forever !" 

Yes,  the  individual  Christian,  and  the  Christian  family 
can  unitedly  say  —  "It  is  good  for  us  that  we  have  been 
afflicted." 

But  the  sickness  and  anxious  watchings  were  the  sad 
precursors  of  Death  in  the  family  of  Bethany.  And  so, 
sooner  or  later,  will  that  awful  silence  and  overshadowing 


THE    CHRISTIAN    FAMILY.  279 

cloud  come  to  your  home !  Death,  stern,  cold,  inexorable, 
the  *' dread  teacher,"  that  tells  man  of  this  life's  frailty 
and  of  a  judgment  to  come,  will  come  into  your  family. 
Sad,  unutterably  sad,  is  death,  in  a  home  without  Christ 
and  without  hope. 

But  if  it  be  a  religious  home,  like  that  of  Bethany, 
blessed  with  the  friendship  of  Jesus,  then  the  overshadow- 
ing cloud  will  be  radiant  with  the  bow,  that 

"  Spans  the  earth,  and  forms  a  pathway  to  the  skies." 

I  have  been  in  the  Christian  family  when  death  came,  not 
as  the  King  of  Terrors,  but  as  the  Prince  of  Peace.  And 
as  I  saw  the  head  meekly  bowed  to  the  visitation,  or  the 
eye  raised  in  calm,  bright  hope  to  heaven,  and  I  said 
with  the  silent  sympathy  and  resigned  acquiescence  of 
the  weeping  household,  "The  work  is  done,  the  victory 
is  gained;  thanks  be  to  God,  who  giveth  that  victory 
through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  I  have  seen  an  infant 
form,  sweetly  reposing  on  its  last  couch, — 

"But  there  beam'd  a  smile 
So  fix'd,  so  holy,  from  that  cherub  brow, 
Death  gazed,  and  left  it  there.     He  dared  not  steal 
The  signet-ring  of  Heaven." 

And  as  we  repeated  the  words  of  the  Saviour,  "  Suffer 
the  little  children  to  come  to  me,  and  forbid  them  not,  for 
of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven,"  the  weeping  parents 
responded  in  tones   tremulous  with  emotion,  but  full  of 


280  BETHANY;     OR, 

Christian  resignation,  "  The  Lord  gave  and  the  Lord  hath 
taken  away,  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

Thus,  not  only  sickness,  but  death,  in  the  Christian 
family,  is  for  the  glory  of  God.  IIow  often  does  the  last 
lingering  sickness  develop  and  beautify  the  Christian 
graces  of  the  loved  one,  and  canonize  them  for  perpetual 
remembrance  and  admiration  !  How  often  does  that  touch- 
ing decay  of  the  body  seem  to  be  but  the  investing  of  the 
soul  with  immortal  life  and  beauty  !  That  pale  cheek,  that 
sweet  composure  of  the  countenance,  that  gentleness  and 
gratitude  to  the  ministering  friends,  that  almost  spiritual 
beaming  of  the  eye ;  "  and  then,  at  length,  when  conceal- 
ment is  no  longer  possible,  that  last  firm,  triumphant,  con- 
soling discourse,  and  that  last  look  of  all  mortal  tender- 
ness and  immortal  trust;  what  hallowed  memories  are 
these  to  soothe,  to  win  us  to  goodness,  to  enrapture  sur- 
viving love  !"  Such  a  death  in  the  family  leaves  a  parting 
benediction  upon  the  Christian  household. 

"Dust  to  its  narrow  house  beneath  I 
Soul  to  its  place  on  high  ! 
They  that  have  seen  thy  look  in  death, 
No  more  may  fear  to  die !" 

God  grant  us  homes  where  Christ  will  love  to  linger, 
because  welcomed  by  loving  hearts.  We  know  that 
afflictions  must  come  even  to  such  families.  "  Marys  and 
Marthas  must  weep  the  world  over;  the  sorrows  of 
Bethany  be  revived  in  the  homes  of  distant  centuries  and 


THE     CHRISTIAN     FAMILY.  281 

undiscovered  countries,  till  the  lengthening  sisterhood  of 
suffering  clasp  hands  around  the  globe."  Yes  !  afflictions 
will  come,  and  Death,  the  spoiler,  desolate  our  beautiful 
homes ;  but  He  who  wept  with  the  sisters  of  Bethany,  and 
poured  the  resurrection  light  on  that  weeping  household, 
is  our  friend  and  Savior,  and  will  be  with  us  in  our  be- 
reavements, with  grace,  and  words  of  unspeakable  consola- 
tion. And  when  our  loved  ones  die,  we  know  that  our 
Redeemer  liveth,  and  that  whosoever  liveth  and  believeth 
in  Him  shall  never  die  ! 

And  that  scene  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  the  brother 
called  up  from  the  sleep  of  death  and  clasped  by  the  en- 
raptured sisters,  is  a  prefiguration  of  every  Christian 
household  on  the  morn  of  the  resurrection.  If  we  can 
say  of  our  families,  as  John  Eliot  said  of  his,  "  We  are  all 
in  Christ  or  with  Christ;"  then  that  touching  resurrection 
scene  at  Bethany  is  an  emblem  of  our  family  circle,  on 
the  resurrection  morn — the  joyous,  triumphant,  reunion 
of  the  loved — 

...  "No  wanderer  lost 
The  family  in  heaven  I'' 


24 


EMMAUSj    OR,   THE    HOME    OF    OLD    AGE. 

"  Abide  with  us :   for  it  is  towards  evening,  and  the  day  is  far 
spent." 

"And  while  the  shadows  round  his  path  descend, 
And  down  the  vale  of  age  his  footsteps  tend, 
Peace  o'er  his  bosom  sheds  his  soft  control, 
And  throngs  of  gentlest  memories  charm  the  soul ; 
Then,  weaned  from  earth,  he  turns  his  steadfast  eye 
Beyond  the  grave,  whose  verge  he  falters  nigh, 
Surveys  the  brightening  regions  of  the  blest, 
And  like  a  wearied  pilgrim,  sinks  to  rest." 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  first  Christian  Sabbath, 
two  of  the  disciples  were  on  their  way  from  Jerusalem  to 
Emmaus.  Around  their  mountain  path  is  early  spring 
with  its  beauty  and  song ;  but  these  lonely  travellers  are 
so  absorbed  in  their  own  thoughts,  that  their  hearts  feel 
no  sympathy  with  rejoicing  nature.  They  walk  on  and 
are  sad ;  for  their  fondest  hopes  and  dreams  of  life  have 
been  buried  in  the  grave  with  Jesus.  As  they  went  on 
their  way,  talking  of  the  thing  which  had  happened, 
sorrowful  and  dejected,  Jesus  himself  drew  near  and  went 
with  them.  They  knew  not  the  Lord,  and  yet  there  was 
a  strange  fascination  about  the  spirit  and  speech  of  this 
stranger  that  made  their  hearts  burn  within  them,  as  he 
talked  to  them  by  the  way.     If  he  were  not  their  Lord, 

(282) 


EMMAUS;    OR,    THE    HOME    OF    OLD    AGE.       283 

he  was  at  least  so  like  him,  that  in  looking  at  him  they 
seemed  to  behold  the  twilight  dawn  of  their  risen  Lord. 

His  conversation,  in  its  effects  on  them,  resembled  the 
rosy  glimmer  that  gilds  the  morning  sky,  which,  though 
not  the  sun  himself,  is  the  mild  herald  of  the  day.  As 
they  communed  by  the  way,  hope  dawned  on  the  darkness 
of  despair.  The  breathings  of  divine  promises,  from  the 
lips  of  this  mysterious  stranger,  had  calmed  their  troubled 
thoughts  and  diffused  a  heavenly  peace  through  their 
desponding  hearts.  As  they  draw  nigh  unto  the  village, 
the  disciples  urge  the-  stranger  to  turn  aside  with  them  to 
their  humble  home.  They  press  their  appeal  by  the  late- 
ness of  the  hour,  for  the  shadows  of  coming  night  were 
falling  round  their  path.  "Abide  with  us;  for  it  is 
towards  evening  and  the  day  is  far  spent."  The  stranger 
turned  aside  to  tarry  for  the  night,  and  in  his,  "Peace  be 
with  you,"  revealed  himself  the  Savior  whom  they  loved. 

There  is  much  in  that  afternoon  walk  and  evening  scene 
at  Emmaus,  which  we  may  profitably  apply  to  Christian 
experience.  It  is  true,  Jesus  cannot  enter  personally  our 
homes  as  our  guest,  and  abide  there  in  actual,  visible 
presence.  But  the  spirit  of  Jesus,  his  truth  and  love, 
may  enter  our  hearts,  and  thus  abide  with  us  in  the  peace, 
spiritual  communion,  and  immortal  hopes  of  our  house- 
holds. And  how  beautiful,  when  the  day  is  far  spent  in 
^the  serene  and  holy  twilight,  to  join  those  disciples  in 
spirit,  and  ask  the  Savior  to  abide  with  us  in  our  homes. 


284  E  M  M  A  u  s ;     OR, 

This  prayer  for  the  Savior's  presence,  may  be  expressed 
at  the  time  of  natural  evening. 


I. 

EVENING. 

**  Morn  is  the  time  to  act,  noon  to  endure ; 
But,  Oh !  if  thou  wouldst  keep  thy  spirit  pure, 
Turn  from  the  beaten  path,  by  worldlings  trod. 
Go  forth  at  eventide,  in  heart  to  walk  with  God." 

How  appropriate  this  prayer  of  the  two  disciples  at  the 
close  of  every  natural  day !  When  the  din  of  business, 
and  the  fever  of  excitement  subside  with  the  twilight  of 
evening,  and  we  are  gathered  in  our  quiet  homes,  how 
natural  to  turn  our  thoughts  to  Jesus,  with  the  prayer, 
"Abide  with  us !"  For  who  can  speak  to  us  then  as  He, 
of  our  past  and  fleeting  hours  ?  Who,  as  He,  can  soothe 
our  cares  and  calm  our  troubled  spirits,  touch  our  hearts 
with  penitence  for  the  past,  or  inspire  us  with  hope  for  the 
future  ?  How  in  such  hours  of  the  closing  day  have  we 
felt  and  sung  with  the  devout  poet  — 

"I  love  to  steal  awhile  away 
From  ev'ry  cumb'ring  care, 
And  spend  the  hours  of  setting  day, 
In  humble,  grateful  prayer." 

There  is  something  in  the  natural  evening  that  is  in 
beautiful  harmony  with  the  presence  of  Christ ;  something 
which  prompts  the  prayer,  "  abide  with  us." 


THE    HOME    OF    OLD    AGE.  285 

Peace  comes  with  evening.  It  is  a  gentle  and  a  sooth- 
ing season.  But  the  peace  of  Christ  abiding  with  us  will 
make  it  yet  more  peaceful ;  because  it  is  the  answer  of  the 
internal  to  the  external ;  the  quietness  of  the  soul  re- 
sponding to  the  serene  twilight,  rendering  it  more  pro- 
found and  grateful.  And  in  this  secret  silence  of  the 
mind,  the  hushed  quietude  of  our  spiritual  nature,  the 
soul  is  brought  into  communion  with  the  unseen  and 
eternal. 

"  The  calm  retreat,  the  silent  shade, 
With  prayer  and  praise  agree." 

The  soft  broad  shadows  come  with  evening.  They  close 
round  us  as  if  they  would  envelop  and  shade  the  fretted 
and  fevered  spirit,  before  giving  it  time  for  restoration. 
But  how  much  safer  and  more  quiet  is  the  spirit,  if,  by  the 
presence  of  Jesus,  it  claims  a  higher  protection,  and  takes 
refuge  under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty.  Then  the 
shadows  of  night  seem  like  a  curtain  from  the  hand  of 
God, 

"To  shade  the  couch  where  his  children  repose." 

Sleep  comes  with  evening.  When  in  that  still  and 
shadowy  season  we  gather  for  the  evening  prayer,  when 
we  are  pitching  the  tent  of  another  day's  journey,  and 
would  lift  up  our  souls  to  Him,  who  looks  upon  us,  and 
whose  purity  is  above  us  like  that  pure  heaven,  we  may 
say  to  Jesus,  "Abide  with  us,  for  the  day  is  far  spent.'* 
Abide  with  us,  that  we  may  feel  that  our  sins  are  for- 


286  E  M  M  A  u  s ;    OR, 

gotten ;  abide  with  us,  as  we  lie  down  to  gentle  sleep,  that 
it  may  be  pleasant  and  refreshing  to  us,  "that  pure 
thoughts  may  keep  the  portals  of  our  dreams,  and  God'a 
blessing  hold  watch  over  us !"  Sweetly  will  sleep  fall 
upon  our  eyelids,  if  we  have  been  holding  communion 
with  Jesus ;  and,  as  if  we  heard  from  him  the  words  of 
kind  permission,  "  Sleep  on  now,  and  take  your  rest,"  wo 
can  commend  ourselves  in  confidence  to  the  Watchman  of 
Israel,  and  lie  down  to  rest, 

"As  in  the  embraces  of  our  God, 
Or  on  our  Savior's  breast." 


II. 

THE    EVENING    OF    LIFE. 

Without  old  age, 

"Life's  busy  day  would  want  its  tranquil  even, 
And  earth  would  lose  her  stepping-stone  to  Heaven." 

Human  life  is  called  a  day.  It  has  its  morning,  noon, 
and  evening. 

Old  age  is  the  evening  of  Life.  And  shall  not  the  old 
disciple  earnestly  desire  the  Savior  to  abide  with  him  ? 
Has  he  been  mth.  us  through  the  day  ?  Did  our  hearts 
seek  him  early,  even  in  the  morning ;  or  if  we  wandered, 
did  we  hear  his  voice  and  return  ?  Oh  !  if  he  has  walked 
with  us  through  life's  day,  how  shall  we  urge  him  to  be 


THE    HOME     OF    OLD     AGE.  287 

more  and  more  near  to  us,  as  the  darkness  falls  faster 
around  us.  If  we  have  had  sweet  communion  with  Christ 
in  our  past  life,  we  surely  cannot  dispense  with  his  pre- 
sence when  the  night  is  coming  on.  "Abide  with  us,  for 
it  is  toward  evening."  This  is  peculiarly  a  prayer  for  old 
age.  Already  the  long  shadows  fall  before  its  tottering 
feet.  The  pulses  of  desire  beat  more  feebly  ;  the  joys  of 
earth  are  fading ;  many  relationships  of  life  are  broken ; 
friends  are  dropping  away;  the  eyes  are  growing  dim; 
and  the  feeble  limbs  falter  among  unbroken  shadows. 
Oh  !  then  will  the  aged  believer  utter  the  prayer  of  these 
disciples :  "Abide  with  me,  0  Christ,  for  it  is  toward 
evening,  and  the  day  is  far  spent." 

"Abide  with  me !     Fast  falls  the  eventide, 
The  darkness  thickens ;  Lord !  with  me  abide, 
When  other  helpers  fail,  and  comforts  flee, 
Friend  of  the  helpless,  oh !  abide  with  me !" 

Happy  is  the  evening  of  life  that  is  brightened  and 
cheered  by  the  presence  of  Jesus  !  Happy  were  the  two 
disciples  on  the  day  of  the  resurrection,  when,  in  their 
walk  to  Emmaus,  they  invited  their  mysterious  companion 
home,  and  found  their  risen  Lord  revealed  to  them  in  the 
guest  of  their  humble  meal !  Blessed  was  the  conversa- 
tion, and  sweet  the  communion  in  the  home  at  Emmaus, 
with  Jesus  as  their  evening  guest !  Calm  and  cheerful  will 
be  the  home  of  old  age,  with  the  Savior's  presence  and 
benediction.     Happy   those    who,    in   their    early  years. 


288  E  M  M  A  u  s ;     OR, 

Bouijlit  I1I3  frlciiLlsliip,  and,  through  life's  weary  day, 
"walked  with  the  companionship  of  the  Son  of  God,  and 
who  can  invite  him  to  abide  with  them  as  the  night  comes 
on,  not  as  a  stranger,  but  as  a  familiar  friend ! 

Sad   indeed    is  old  age  without    such    companionship ; 
without  the  presence  of  Him  sent  by  the  Father  to  keep 
us  ever  in  his  love.     Desolate  is  the  home  of  the  worldling 
as  the  light  of  life  is  fading,  and  the  world  is  becoming  to 
him  "a  banquet  hall  deserted,"  with  vacant  seats,  expiring 
lamps,  smouldering    ashes,    and    empty   cups    for    cheer. 
How  cheerless  and  desolate  is  the  home  of  age  without  the 
consolation  and  hopes  of  religion  !     The  cherished  objects 
of  life  have  departed.     The  past  is  full  of  painful  recol- 
lections, the  present  full  of  disquietude  and  remorse,  and 
the  future  all  dark  and  dreary  !     Age  without  faith,  is  a 
wreck  upon  the  shore  of  life,  a  ruin  upon  the  beetling 
cliffs  of  time,  tottering  to  its  fall,  and  about  to   be  en- 
gulphed  and  lost  forever !     Oh !  to  end  life  thus,  losing 
its  home  on  earth,  but  finding  none  with  God.     This  is 
desolation,    indeed,    in    which    the    twilight   of    evening 
deepens  into  a  starless  night ;  in  which  the  lamps  of  life 
go  out,  and  the  soul  is  left  to  wail  in  the  outer  darkness 
forever ! 

But  Christian  old  age  has  the  abiding  presence  of 
Christ,  and  is  cheerful  and  happy.  True  cheerfulness 
springs  from  the  love  of  God  in  the  soul ;  and  the  Savior, 
who  most  manifests  that  love,  is  the  most  cheering  of  all 
companions  for  the  evening  of  life.     We  need  his  genial 


THE     HOME    OF     OLD    AGE.  289 

spirit  always,  alike  to  give  us  patience  in  trial,  and  true 
jo  J  in  our  blessings  for  all  our  years.  But  when  it  is 
towards  evening,  and  the  great  night  is  at  hand,  then,  es- 
specially,  do  we  need  Christian  cheerfulness  to  give  us 
patience  under  the  change.  ''See  God  as  Christ  reveals 
him  in  the  earlier  seasons  of  life,  and  we  shall  not  fail  to 
see  him  during  its  closing  years.  He  whom  we  sought  as 
Guide,  will  stay  with  us  as  Comforter,  and  his  glory  will 
shine  out  at  sunset,  even  more  blessedly  than  at  noon- 
day." 

Blessed  is  such  an  evening  of  life  !  With  Christ,  years 
bring  a  brighter  charm  than  they  can  take  away. 
It  is  true,  the  physical  infirmities  of  age  often  obstruct 
the  manifestation  of  the  mind's  activity,  and  the  soul 
needs  a  new  form  to  correspond  with  its  growing  life ;  it 
seems  too  bright  to  linger  in  the  enfeebled  body,  whose 
ear  is  dull,  and  whose  eye  is  dim,  whose  pulse  beats  too 
slowly  to  keep  pace  with  the  inner  life ;  for  whilst  the  out- 
ward man  is  enfeebled  by  age,  the  inward  man  is  often 
renewed  with  growing  strength  and  capacities  with  revolving 
years.  There  is  no  age  to  the  mind.  Does  thought  grow 
old  as  it  wins  new  majesty  at  every  stage  of  its  progress, 
and  presses  on  to  new  realms  of  light  ?  Does  love  grow 
old  as  it  gains  new  strength,  and  rises  to  its  highest 
beauty  in  the  last  earthly  moments  —  the  last  spiritual 
victory  ?  Does  devotion  grow  old  as  it  presses  nearer  to 
the  throne  of  God  ?  There  is  no  old  age  to  the  Christian. 
He  is  strong  in  faith,  and  in  the  graces  which  come  to  him 
25 


2!^0  K  M  M  A  us;    OR, 

through  faith.  lie  can  say,  with  the  Apostle,  *'  though 
our  outward  man  perish,  the  inward  man  is  renewed  day 
by  day." 

"  Joy  and  crown  of  a  true  life — new  childhood — second 
morning  of  our  being,  so  exemplified  in  the  experience  of 
the  ripest  men !  A  return  to  youth,  not  merely  by  the 
strange  renewal  of  young  remembrances,  but  a  regene- 
rating of  the  affections,  a  renewal  of  that  spontaneous 
trusting  reason  so  beautiful  in  childhood  ?  Blessed  old 
age,  so  entering  the  kingdom  of  heaven  like  a  little  child, 
and  winning  youth  and  childhood  to  itself  by  its  holy 
wisdom  and  loving  counsel !  Nearer  God  than  ever,  it 
partakes  more  largely  of  His  grace,  and  all'  past  expe- 
rience and  labor,  all  thoughts,  affections,  purposes,  seem 
but  to  have  been  shaping  the  mind  and  heart  into  a  vessel 
for  holding  the  precious  effluence  from  above.  The  dis- 
puting reason,  the  impulsive  feelings,  the  daring  will,  all 
seem  to  kneel  down  then  in  faith  before  the  mercy-seat, 
and  be  ennobled  by  the  service  and  exalted  by  the  obe- 
dience. Imagination  itself,  before  so  wayward  and  some- 
times rebellious,  becomes  the  servant  of  ftiith,  and,  true  to 
the  Infinite  Creator,  joins  him  in  creating  the  new  heavens 
and  the  new  earth,  wherein  dwelleth  righteousness.  The 
noblest  genius  ever  seen  on  earth  joins  with  the  simplest 
piety  in  the  invitation  to  God's  Beloved  —  "Abide  with 
us,  for  it  is  toward  evening,  and  the  day  is  far  spent." 
The  thinner  the  veil  of  this  earthly  tabernacle,  the  more 


THE    HOME    OF    OLD    AGE.  291 

need  of  tlifc  light  th<at  can  show  the  Divine  glory  and  the 
eternal  world  througli  its  perishable  material."* 

Happy  is  the  evening  of  a  life  spent  in  the  service  of 
Jesus !  The  past  is  full  of  silent  blessing  and  thrilling 
memories — the  present,  full  of  peace  and  hope  —  the 
future  full  of  light  and  glory.  To  such  an  one  the 
evening  of  life  is  the  "dawn  of  bliss,"  the  youth  of  his 
immortality.  Life's  labors  done,  light  from  heaven  falls 
on  his  path,  and  the  good  angel  pointing  upward,  says. 

**  Thither,  thithor,  shalt  thou  {^o, 
Immortal  light,  and  life  forever  more.'* 

And  how  often  is  the  kindness  of  the  Lord  to  the  aged 

Christian,  specially  manifested   in    his   gentle  dismissal ! 

The  day  of  life  spent  in  piety  and  love,  comes  in  hope  to 

an  evening  calm  and  lovely ;  and  though  the  sun  declines, 

the  shadows  that  he  leaves  behind  are  only  to  curtain  the 

spirit  into  rest.     How  beautifully  and  touchingly  has  this 

parting  with  life  in  old    age    been    sung   by  an  English 

poet :t — 

"Life!  we've  been  long;  together, 
Through  pleasant  and  through  cloudy  weather. 
'Tis  liard  to  part  when  friends  are  dear, 
Perhaps  'twill  cost  a  sigh,  a  tear; 

Then  steal  away,  give  little  warning, 
Choose  thine  own  time ; 
Say  not  good  night,  but  in  some  happier  clime, 

Bid  me  good  morning." 

Let  me  say  to  the  younger  members  of  the  household, 
deal  gently  and  reverently  with   your   elders.     Be  kind 
*  Osgood.  f  Mrs.  Barbauld. 


202  EMMAUS;    OR, 

and  courteous  to  the  old.  They  need  your  sympathy. 
Through  this  bright  world  they  move  mistily  and  wearily. 
It  is  with  them  the  day,  ^'  when  the  keepers  of  the  houso 
shall  tremble,  and  the  strong  men  shall  bow  themselves ; 
and  those  that  look  out  of  the  windows  be  darkened,  and 
the  doors  shall  be  shut  in  the  streets,  and  he  shall  rise  up 
at  the  voice  of  the  bird,  and  all  the  daughters  of  music 

shall  be  brought  low and  the  grasshopper  shall 

be  a  burden,  and  desire  shall  fail."  At  such  a  time  of 
dimness  and  feebleness,  give  them  your  gentlest  words, 
and  readiest  sympathy;  "fo**  youth  is  never  so  beautiful, 
as  when  it  acts  as  a  guardian  angel  or  a  ministering  spirit 
to  old  age." 

And  how  touching,  in  view  of  such  a  coming  time,  is 
the  exhortation  of  Scripture  — "  Remember  now  thy 
Creator  in  the  days  of  thy  youth,  while  the  evil  days 
come  not,  nor  the  years  draw  nigh,  when  thou  shalt  say, 
I  have  no  pleasure  in  them."  Do  not  squander  the 
precious  season  of  youth,  in  vanity  and  forgetfulncss  of 
God,  lest  you  should  come  to  a  dreary,  joyless,  hopeless 
old  age.  Seek  the  Savior  in  the  morning,  and  walk  with 
him  in  your  day  of  strength,  and  he  will  bless  you  with 
his  brighter  presence  when  the  evening  comes. 

But  you  may  never  see  the  evening  of  old  age.  The 
shadows  often  fall  from  the  mountain  before  we  look  for 
them.  The  night  of  death  often  comes  down  suddenly, 
and  unushered  by  the  gradual  evening.  Who  knoweth 
but  that  it  is  toward  evening  now,  though  not  a  shadow  dim 


THE    HOME    OF    OLD    AGE.  293 

the  air  ?  Who  knoweth  but  that  the  day  is  far  spent  with 
us,  though  not  many  of  its  golden  sands  may  have  fallen  ? 
The  evening  of  death,  often  overshadows  life's  very  noon- 
tide. How  should  the  young  engage  the  Savior  to  abide 
with  them,  even  in  the  morning  and  at  noon.  When  you 
know  that  death  may  be  near  at  any  moment,  how  can 
you  enjoy  peace  and  safety  without  the  abiding  presence 
of  Jesus?  Not  knowing  when  the  shadows  of  evening 
may  fall,  your  prayer  should  be,  Abide  with  me  always ! 

"Abide  with  me  from  morn  till  eve, 
For  without  thee,  I  cannot  live.'' 

And  happy,  if  whilst  walking  with  Jesus  in  the  morning 
of  life,  the  night  of  death  should  come !  As  the  shadows 
begin  to  fall,  you  can  say  to  the  Savior  by  your  side, 
Abide  with  me,  oh,  Christ !  for  it  is  toward  evening. 

**Hold  thou  thy  cross  before  my  closing  eyes, 
Shine  through  the  gloom,  and  point  me  to  the  skies ; 
Heaven's  morning  breaks,  and  earth's  vain  shadows  flee, 
In  life,  in  death,  0  Lord,  abide  with  me!" 

Let  me  commend  my  aged  friends  to  the  sympathy  of 
the  Savior.  Your  heart  breathes  that  touching  prayer  of 
the  Psalmist — "0  God,  thou  hast  taught  me  from  my 
youth ;  and  hitherto  have  I  declared  thy  wondrous  works. 
Now  also  when  I  am  old  and  grey-headed,  0  God,  forsake 
me  not*."  He  will  never  leave  you  nor  forsake  you.  The 
Savior  who  has  walked  with  you,  through  the  day,  will 
not  leave  you  as  your  eyes  are  growing  dim,  and  your  feet 
begin  to  halt  among  unbroken  shadows.     No — He  will  be 


204  E  ^l  M  A  u  s  ;    OR, 

nearer  to  you  than  ever,  for  lie  knows  your  frame,  and  is 
touched  with  a  feeling  of  your  infirmities.  Only  say  to 
him,  with  intenser  faith  and  feeling,  Abide  with  me,  0 
Jesus,  for  it  is  toward  evening !  And  he  will  make  his 
grace  to  abound  in  you.  ^'  What  are  you  doing  ?"  said  a 
minister,  as  he  one  day  visited  a  feeble  old  man  who  dwelt 
in  a  windy  hovel.  "What  arc  you  doing?"  as  he  saw 
him  sitting  beneath  the  dripping  rafters  in  his  smoky 
chamber,  with  his  Bible  upon  his  knee.  "  Oh,  sir  !  I  am 
sitting  under  his  shadow  with  great  delight,  and  his  fruit 
is  sweet  to  my  taste  !" 

Thus  may  you  abide  with  Jesus,  and  raise  gently,  joy- 
fully, humbly,  the  Christian's  vesper  hymn,  responsive  to 
the  matin  song ;  and  as  the  daylight  dies,  welcome  anew 
the  bringer  of  light  uncreated  and  immortal.  Say,  Abide 
we  me,  0  Jesus,  for  it  is  evening ! 

"In  age  and  feebleness  extreme, 
Who  shall  a  helpless  worm  redeem? 
Jesus  my  only  hope  thou  art, 
Strength  of  my  failing  flesh  and  heart; 
0,  could  I  catch  a  smile  from  Thee, 
And  drop  into  Eternity!" 


T  II  ].]     HOME     OF     OLD     AGE.  295 


THE    HEAVENLY    HOME. 

"In  my  Father's  house  are  many  mansions."  —  Jesus. 

*'  Home  celestial !     Home  eternal ! 
Home  uprear'd  by  power  Supernal ! 
Home,  no  change  or  loss  that  fearest, 
From  afar  my  soul  thou  cheerest ; 
*  -x-  -sf  *  *  * 

Grant  me,  Savior,  -with  thy  Blessed, 
Of  thy  Rest  to  be  possessed, 
And  amid  the  joys  it  bringeth, 
Sing  the  song  that  none  else  singeth." 

HiLDEBERT,  A.  D.  1133. 

The  Savior  revealed  the  eternal  world  as  the  soul's  true 
home.  Lovely  as  is  the  Christian  family  on  earth,  it  is 
only  prefatory  to  the  more  genial  and  ecstatic  communion 
of  the  family  in  heaven.  Sweet  and  satisfying,  beyond 
all  else  on  earth,  are  the  joys  of  a  Christian  home. 

"The  fellowship  of  kindred  minds, 
Is  like  to  that  above." 

But  how  frail  the  tie  that  "  makes  the  members  one  !" 
How  few  earthly  homes  without  the  sad  memorial  of  some 
one  that  is  gone  !  How  soon  the  sweet  bonds  and  kindred 
fellowship  of  the  household  will  be  broken !  Soon  must 
we  leave  these  pleasant  homes  of  earth ! 

"And  by  the  hearth  we  now  sit  round, 
Some  other  circle  will  be  found." 


206        K  M  M  A  U  P  ;    OR,    THE    HOME    OF    OLD    AGE. 

Dut  tlic  words  of  Jesus  bear  our  thoughts  upward  to 
tlic  "many  mansions."  *' Father,  I  will,  that  they  also 
whom  thou  hast  given  me,  be  with  me  where  I  am  ;  that 
they  may  behold  ray  glory."  For  many  from  our  house- 
holds has  this  prayer  been  fulfilled ;  and  for  those  who  yet 
remain,  it  inspires  the  precious  hope  of  the  reunion  of  the 
whole  Christian  family  in  Heaven.  Here  Christ  abides? 
with  us ;  there  we  shall  be  with  him,  that  we  may  behold 
his  glory.  With  Christ  in  our  Father  8  House  !  Eternal 
home  of  the  Christian  Family ! 

"  Oh !  the  delights,  the  heav'nly  joys, 
The  glories  of  the  place, 
When  Jesus  sheds  the  brightest  beams, 
Of  his  o'erflowing  grace !" 

Oh !  my  Christian  friends,  let  us  earnestly  and  prayer- 
fully strive  to  make  our  homes  on  earth  Christian  in  form 
and  spirit.  Let  us  set  our  houses  in  the  spiritual  order  of 
faith,  and  prayer,  and  love ;  then  shall  no  loved  one  be 
missed  from  the  heavenly  Home ;  then,  absent  from  the 
body,  we  shall  be  present  with  the  Father,  and  with  his 
son,  Jesus  Christ,  of  whom  the  whole  family  in  heaven  and 
earth  is  named. 

"0  Lord,  that  wisdom  may  we  know, 
"Which  yields  a  life  of  peace  below ; 
So,  in  the  world  to  follow  this, 
May  each  repeat,  in  words  of  bliss. 
We're  all  — all  hereT 


/ 


iV 


THE    END 


Date  Due 

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